


Sanctuary

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-08
Updated: 2007-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:12:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A million shattered pieces<br/>Then let it be<br/>I'll tell you tales you won't believe<br/>I'll tell you anyway<br/>I'll be released.<br/>(BT - Lullaby for Gaia)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A [translation into Chinese by Ginny Sue, starting with Chapter 1,](http://tieba.baidu.com/p/3303336585) is available here.

_What's left of me now  
My heart is a battleground  
You show me how to see  
That nothing is whole and nothing is broken  
In you and I there's a new land  
Angels in flight  
My sanctuary, my sanctuary now  
Where fears and lies melt away_  
Utada Hikaru, "Sanctuary"  


 

 

The first time he had seen her was in Flourish and Botts, beside the Golden Trio. It was hard to mistake her for anyone other than who she was. Draco's first instinct was to lash out, to strike before others thought him weak. But of course his father intervened, and the awkward moment was cut short.

He didn't think of her again until much later. Late night insomnia left him wandering down forgotten corridors. He heard sobbing from one of the bathrooms, a room no girl in his year had ever dared to use. Intrigued, he opened the door slightly. The red hair was unmistakable. Ginny Weasley, silent shadow to the Golden Trio, was sobbing in front of the mirrors. She was scrubbing at her hands, a bright red splotches of water were all around her. She didn't see his reflection in the mirror. She was too focused on scrubbing her hands, tears obscuring her vision.

_What is she doing at four thirty in the morning?_ he wondered. But he was a second year, and she was only an ickle firstie. The Heir of Slytherin stalked the halls, and he was infinitely more exciting than a sobbing Weasley.

She didn't make much of an impact on him until fifth year. She was a pale thing, ghosting behind the Trio. She was a wraith without any substance, clinging to Neville Longbottom at the Yule Ball out of pity and lack of self-worth. She was a Weasley, beneath the notice of a Malfoy. She was nothing until fifth year. She caught him unawares, gloating in his newfound power. He hadn't thought her worth anything. He had laughed when she threatened him, pointing her wand at his face. He hadn't thought she was any threat, and had started to laugh at her.

She was brittle. It was something he hadn't known then, something he hadn't understood. She was emotionally fragile, ready to break. Beneath the bluster and raucous laughter had been a gaping emptiness, a void yawning wide. She couldn't tolerate the ridicule, couldn't tolerate hopelessness or defeat. Ginny hexed him then, her famous Bat Bogey Hex. He had thought it a joke when he first heard of it. Bats were hardly a Gryffindor kind of animal. She was a sniveling slip of a girl when he had last seen her.

But her hex was terrifying. The anger blazing in her eyes had been fearsome. Her jaw tight in fury, she had taken grim satisfaction in taking him down a peg.

Draco wondered if any Weasley knew what their precious baby girl had become. He wondered if Ginny even knew herself, or if she was just as clueless as they were.

He learned futility and hopelessness in the following year. He saw empty eyes in the mirror, dark smudges from lack of sleep. He broke down regularly in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, feeling almost unable to go on. The stress was making him crack apart at the seams. He almost welcomed the painful curse that Harry had thrown at him. There were great splashes of blood everywhere – he'd seen it before but couldn't place it – and he thought he was going to die. It would have been the answer to everything. No more hiding and trying to keep himself together. No more lying and pretending it was going to be all right. If he failed due to death, his mother would be safe. If he failed outright, her life was forfeit.

But he lived. Madam Pomfrey made sure of that. Harry was somehow still the golden boy, invited to all the parties, seen with all the right people that Draco couldn't even touch. Even the Weasley girl for a month seemed to be just as charmed. The brittle edges seemed to recede, and her smiles almost seemed to be genuine. The shadows seemed to be gone.

Seemed to be. It's been years since he had seen her. Snape had pulled Draco into hiding after Dumbledore's death. Neither were safe, and Snape had a half dozen different hiding places all over England. "I promised your mother," he said, answering Draco's unspoken question. Draco had never been to this part of Wales before. "I took an Unbreakable Vow to protect you. But not to worry, she's safe. Malfoy Manor is charmed to security. Your mother is in Ireland now, in a safe place. She won't be found, and neither will you."

When Snape turned to leave, Draco panicked. "Won't you stay with me?"

He had given him a look that was almost a sad smile. "Your mother said the same thing. I can't. I've hidden you here, but someone should remain behind to lie for you. Shall I say that the great Harry Potter killed you? That his daft friend Weasley killed your mother?" Draco had merely nodded. So that was the way of it. They would be hidden; they would be dead in the eyes of all they knew, and they would scurry from notice like rats. Staying together would only increase their chances of getting caught and killed.

The town was nice, at least. He obtained a menial job at the apothecary, keeping to the back rooms. He methodically ground items to powders, he made potions, he made tinctures and he kept the stock full. He did his shopping daily like the locals did; it gave him something to do. He wasn't a Malfoy here. It was a small coastal town near the Atlantic, a place that time forgot. He learned Welsh from his employer, a crusty old man that likely knew his name wasn't David Marsh, but let it go. Draco had said he was quiet since there had been a death in the family, and he wanted to grieve alone. They let it go, much like everything else he said. He was quiet and solitary. He gave no one grief, and he worked hard in the apothecary. He helped out at town festivals, and most of the younger folk soon forgot the gaunt, haunted look he had arrived with.

Years spun by. He left his teens behind him, left the world of Draco Malfoy behind. Some days he forgot that his name wasn't David Marsh. Some days he forgot that Malfoys didn't work with their hands, that they didn't associate with anyone that wasn't a Pureblood. The town was full of Muggleborn and Muggles, all of whom lived side by side with magical folk. It was the last place a Malfoy would hide in.

He had forgotten what Weasley red looked like, what a lightning bolt scar looked like, what bushy brown hair looked like. He forgot what their shadowy friends looked like. It was easy to forget, since it didn't matter anymore. There was the moon and the sun, the sand and the sea, potions and poultices. There was the market and handful of shops, the bookstores and tea shops, and the one strange temple just outside of town that refused to decay even though no one cared for it or visited anymore. The rugged hills had a breathtaking beauty, and he walked it for endless hours on the weekends.

A flash of golden red hair in the market startled him one weekend when he was twenty-two. The elders were trying to push him to date one of the local girls. _Settle down,_ they told him. _You're one of us, and we'd like you to stay._

"You're looking well," the redhead's companion stated, dreamy blue eyes lighting up. "I'm glad."

The redhead seemed to shiver, and her jaw seemed to tighten. "No one goes near the temple," she said carelessly. "I'm all right."

"I brought you some letters, some books... A few new things. Your brother wanted to include some cakes, but I thought it would ruin the clothes." The blonde woman gave her a small box wrapped in paper decorated with radishes and magnifying glasses, each hand drawn with painstaking detail.

"Thanks, Luna," the redhead said, voice soft. There was an air of finality about her, the sense that things were simply in a holding pattern and would never change. The box fit neatly into her jacket pocket. "Why don't we get something to eat?"

Luna hesitated, obviously torn. "Ginny, I..."

"Never mind," Ginny muttered. "You can't stay, anyway."

There was something in the finality of her tone that Draco was drawn to. He edged closer, almost close enough to touch her fiery hair. He didn't understand it, but he stayed close.

"Ginny, I'd stay if I could," Luna said apologetically. "You know that. It won't be long, I'm sure."

"You said that last month," Ginny murmured.

"And once Trent is caught, it will be over," Luna said brightly, missing Ginny's remark. "I'm sure that Tonks and Remus will find him soon."

"It doesn't matter," Ginny replied, looking away. "None of it does. I've been here long enough to know that."

Draco was fascinated by the dead notes in Ginny's voice. Luna didn't seem to hear them, but he could. She was broken into pieces, glued back together all wrong, and now the shattered edges grated against each other. Her entire demeanor spoke of deep pain, yet her friend couldn't even see it.

Who was this Trent fellow, and what had he done to her?

Luna's eyes sharpened, and they seemed to bore straight into Ginny's soul. "None of that, now. This isn't like before. I'm not ignoring it. Everything happened, but justice is slow and methodical. We can't rush this." Luna's gaze shifted, and her eyes seemed to soften and glaze over again. "I'll bring you more special things next time."

"Of course," Ginny replied. She carried the air of repetition with her, as if they had done this many times before. They probably have; Ginny had implied that they met monthly.

They hugged, and Draco faded back slightly. He purchased two candied treats at a nearby booth and returned to Ginny's side. She was standing there, looking for all the world as if she were lost. Luna was nowhere to be seen. He handed over one of the treats. "Here. You look like you need this right now."

Startled, Ginny looked up. "Malfoy?" she gasped.

"David Marsh," Draco supplied helpfully. He watched as Ginny reluctantly took the treat. "I've been living here a while."

"I haven't seen you before," Ginny said accusingly. She made no move to eat the candy yet, and watched him closely.

Draco shrugged and nibbled on his candy. "I'm not particularly social. Ask anyone."

Her eyes narrowed. "So why now?"

He shrugged again, rather negligently. "Why not? Maybe you can tell me what I've missed."

"How long have you been gone?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Since the end of sixth year."

She nibbled at the candy delicately, testing it. "You've missed a lot."

"I guess so." He watched her eat the candy. "Can we talk at the café? I'd like to know some of it."

Ginny bit her lip almost uncertainly. "Um..."

"I'll walk you wherever you need to go afterward."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, suspicious.

"I don't know. I didn't leave much behind when I left, but I still want to hear about it."

"You tried to ruin it all, Malfoy." Her jaw tightened in anger and it was fascinating for him to watch. The fractured, brittle edges of her were grinding against each other. "What's there to be curious about?"

"I've been here a long time," Draco murmured. "This is the place that time forgot."

She finished the candy and backed away. "Forget me, too, Malfoy. You never saw me here."

Draco watched her face into the crowd. He let her go, a ghost of a smile on his face. There hadn't been much to do in the past few years other than work and forget. It had been easy to forget the past, to let it all fade away. No here was something to focus on, something to puzzle out. Here was something to do.

He knew where she lived. He could afford to take his time.

Draco didn't stop to question his interest in the youngest Weasley. He knew she would have more recent information about Wizarding Britain. She might know what happened to Snape, if his mother had ever been found, if any of his friends survived. It would be some kind of comfortable to speak with someone that knew him as Draco Malfoy and not David Marsh. It wasn't a lack of magic that was getting to him; there was plenty of magic used openly in town. Muggle and magic items seemed to blend well. He supposed that Wales had that air of mystery and magic to begin with. Muggles in Wales already believed in magic, and protected it fiercely. It had been one of those strangely endearing traits the town had, one that had to grow on him. By now, Draco felt just as protective.

No, this was different. He couldn't put it into words, exactly. There was something about her that called to him. There was darkness in her, splinters of pain, abject misery hidden deep within the core of her soul. How could a Gryffindor get that way? They were the golden children, lofted high above all others. They were brave and good, loved by all. Something big must have happened. Perhaps this Trent character did something.

Draco knew by now to trust his instincts.

He let her be for a week. He went through his usual routine. He brewed Mrs. Welkin's arthritis potion. He measured out Mr. Davies' strengthening herbs. He kept supplies of teas on hand, and began tinctures for the shop. He did his shopping and greeted neighbors. He did his laundry, took his walks and observed the countryside. He perused the market and made small talk. He plotted what to say to Ginny at night, but was never really sure. He went to Eselda's bookshop to read; since she liked him, he was always allowed to bring in tea and a crumpet from the bakery next door. Draco never got fingerprints on the books or grew careless enough to spill the tea. All of Eselda's favored customers could snack in her shop when they wished, and he had been flattered at the offer.

Draco made his customary weekend walk. He picked a few flowers that were snow white at the edges with a heart of crimson. He felt rather silly doing it, but one never went to another's home empty handed. That was rude.

Draco knocked on the temple door. Various conversations had filtered through his mind during the week, but his mind had been curiously free of any stray thoughts during his walk. Years of avoiding serious thoughts on his walks now served to clear his mind.

"Hullo, Weasley," he murmured, extending the flowers when she opened the door. He angled himself so that she would have to shove him into the deck in order to shut the door.

She realized this as well, and her eyes narrowed a fraction. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Can't I come in?" he asked.

"What for?" Ginny countered.

"To talk, Weasley. Surely you don't get enough of that out here."

"How did you find me?" she hissed. She startled Draco with her ferocity. _She's acting like a caged thing,_ Draco realized.

"I saw you at the market, remember? You and Lovegood both."

"I told you to forget me," Ginny replied. Her jaw tightened a fraction, and her entire posture thrummed with energy. She was in a defensive stance, ready for any strike.

Something happened to her, all right.

"I forgot about that," Draco replied, voice droll. He gave his flowers a gentle shake. "These are for you. I call them snow drops. I don't know what they're really called."

Reluctantly, she took them from Draco, but made no move otherwise. Her face carried no expression. "You can go now, Malfoy."

"I go by Marsh now. What's the name you use?"

It was surreal, trading names as if everyone had a second identity in this tiny Welsh town. Draco thought he was being pleasant enough, but her lips thinned.

"Go away, Malfoy. Leave me alone. You've done enough damage already." She tried to shove his foot away with hers.

Something like anger flashed through Draco. "I was sixteen bloody years old, Weasley. Do you even know why? Did anyone ever stop to ask why?"

"You're a Death Eater," she replied, voice limp and dull. "What's to ask? You'll just lie anyway."

"Ask me," Draco spat through grit teeth. "Ask me, and listen to the answer. Then, if you really want me to, I'll leave."

She pursed her lips, considering. After a long moment, she nodded briskly. "Why did you do it, Malfoy? Why did you let them all into Hogwarts six years ago?"

"He would have killed my parents if I didn't," Draco replied, voice numbed and empty. "I didn't care what happened to me at that point, if your precious Potter's curse killed me or not."

"He didn't..."

"Yes, he did. The curse cut me to ribbons. I nearly bled to death."

The finality in his voice stopped any further protest. She knew that sound; she heard it in her voice all the time.

"What happened?" she asked instead.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He inclined his head to the interior of the temple. "Shouldn't we talk inside, rather than at the door?"

She thought for a moment, brow furrowed. When her features smoothed into a mask, Draco had no idea what she was going to say to him.

"Come in," she said finally, opening the door wide.

The inside of the ramshackle temple looked like a country home. It reminded him of Adrian Rhys' home, when his mother had taken pity on Draco in his early days. Adrian was probably the closest thing Draco had to a friend, and if he was honest about it, Adrian was his best friend.

The windows let in a lot of light, though the floral curtains muted it. The walls were covered with wallpaper featuring cabbage roses and blue forget-me-nots. The furniture in the kitchen was time worn oak, covered with pink cushions on the seats that matched the cabbage roses on the walls. The sink was old fashioned, with porcelain handles on the faucet. The Muggle stove and refrigerator were ancient white enamel that was chipping off in the corners. The dish rack by the sink was full of porcelain plates decorated with autumn leaves or cabbage roses. It was the kitchen of somebody's grandmother, not for a twenty-one year old young woman on the run.

"Not your style, Malfoy?" Ginny asked, a rude twist to her words.

"Actually, I was thinking it wasn't _your_ style."

Her lips compressed into a thin line. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Tell me what happened afterward. I was gone by then," he replied, sitting at the table.

Her lips still thin, Ginny put the flowers into a vase of water. "Everything fell apart. More people died. The war took over everything and everyone."

"What happened to Snape?" Draco asked, mouth dry.

"That slimy git died," Ginny said. There was no vitriol in the insult, as if she was merely repeating the opinion of others. As such, Draco didn't touch the comment.

"How?"

"He was a spy, you know. After killing Dumbledore, he wasn't welcome with us. And none of yours ever really liked him, either. They killed him in one of their raids rather than take him with them." There was no dark pleasure in her voice, at least. Draco didn't think he could take it if there had been.

"When?" he croaked. He tried to swallow down the painful lump that was forming in his throat. "When did it happen?"

"About a year ago, something like that."

Draco's stomach bottomed out from under him. Now he would never know where Narcissa Malfoy had gone. Ireland was a big place to hide someone, even if the country looked small on the map. The land was full of soft places and magical items, castles and fey. She could be anywhere, and he had no clues where to begin to look.

"You don't look terribly surprised," Ginny remarked.

"They do that," Draco replied dully. "So no one knows anything he might have known," Draco murmured softly.

"He'd mentioned safe towns to Tonks before. That's how they thought of this place." Her voice was reluctant, as if the words had been dragged out of her.

Draco closed his eyes, feeling drained. "But nobody knows for sure. Nobody will ever know."

"What are you on about?"

"He killed the Headmaster because I couldn't. I would've been tortured, maybe killed. My mother would have been in danger. He hid us both in separate places."

"Your father's dead. They think he was Kissed without permission," Ginny added.

Draco shook his head. "A potion hidden in a letter that Snape sent him. I asked him to."

Ginny blinked. "You asked him to kill your father?"

"Better than the Kiss. Better than to slowly go insane." Draco looked at the crimson centers of the flowers. "He was still my father, no matter what his faults."

Her eyes hardened at his words. "He had so many, didn't he?" Her voice was bitter, laced with a poisonous hate.

"What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, her face sliding into a mask of pure innocense. Gryffindors must have been fooled for years.

"You're not a golden Gryffindor, are you? How many people know what you're really like?"

Her face had gone pure white at his words, and her lips thinned in panic. "Get out."

Draco stood, shadows falling over him. "And if I don't?"

Her drawn face shattered into terror suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped. He could hear the fearful whimpers rising in her throat. They were the sounds of a frightened animal, one that happened to have been tortured before and now expecting the same. He watched her shrink into herself, making a smaller target.

"Weasley," he whispered. Suddenly her darkness was ugly, and his interest in it was petty. He was ashamed. He was going to exploit her secrets to stave off his boredom, then cast her aside. He would have been no better than any of the dangerous people they were hiding from.

She backed away from him, knocking over her chair. She skittered backward on the floor, surprisingly fast.

Draco moved forward, shadows behind him darkening his features. He had no idea what she was seeing when she looked at him. She scuttled back faster, until her back was to the wall. He knelt in front of her, shadows shifting again.

"Weasley?"

"Go away," she whispered in a plaintive, childlike voice.

"What just happened?"

"Go away. It's _your_ fault, not mine. I didn't do it."

She didn't see him, he suddenly realized. She was seeing whatever terrified her. He looked around the kitchen, hoping he could see something that would help him jolt her out of her state. He caught his reflection in the ancient glass of the stove. He looked like he had gaunt hollows for eyes, dark hair and a shadow that appeared like a ghastly grin where his mouth should be. But he didn't look like a fearsome thing, just a mean dark-haired boy.

"Weasley," Draco said firmly, reaching for her.

She shrank away from him. "I won't do it. I _won't."_

What in Merlin's name happened? Draco thought. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she desperately rubbed her hands together. Suddenly Draco remembered her in his second year, scrubbing her hands, red splashes all around her. Blood. She had been just a first year then.

"Weasley! Snap out of it!"

Her eyes cleared, and she shoved Draco backward almost viciously. "You! Get out of here! You don't belong here!"

He recognized this temper, actually. It was the same brittle anger he had seen in her eyes at school. It was the source of her frantic attempts to be everything that everyone else wanted her to be. There was nothing in her left. Whatever happened to her first year had burned her spirit away, leaving an empty shell behind.

"You're stuck alone here, Weasley. There's no one else here."

Her eyes were deep pools of loathing. He doubted that anyone else had seen her this vulnerable.

"You don't belong here, Malfoy. Go away. Forget you ever saw me." Her voice was icy cold, and Draco was sure that it usually helped her get her own way.

He grabbed her by the wrists swiftly and pushed her up against the wall. His legs were nestled between hers, and he held her arms above her head. Their bodies were flush against each other. Draco had never realized that her bulky clothing hid such lush curves. Her eyes screamed murder, though. Her jaw was set tight, her shoulders as locked as they could be.

"Someone hurt you first year. Why didn't anyone see it?"

She reacted violently, struggling against him and screaming that her family members were good people. Ah, he'd struck a nerve there, a sharp pain that never healed. Something terrible had happened to her first year, and none of her precious family had even noticed.

That was all right. His family had often not noticed him, either.

His face inches from hers, he smiled a genuine smile. "It's all right, Weasley. There's no need to lie or pretend. It's just me and you. You don't have to pretend for _my_ sake. But I do appreciate the effort."

"You're vile," she hissed, baring her teeth. "Let go of me!"

"You don't have anyone else to talk to. Why not talk to me?"

She struggled against him. "Get out," she hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Get out before you regret it."

Draco didn't rise to the bait. He pressed himself tighter against her. "You can't tell Lovegood, can you? You haven't ever told anyone, have you? Why not tell me? I haven't got anyone to tell. I haven't anyone else to talk to." His lips were right next to her ear, his voice almost like a caress. "It doesn't have to be here. I have a flat in town. I work at the apothecary. Get out of this place, or you'll never let go of it."

"You don't have a bloody clue, Malfoy," Ginny hissed. "Let go of me and get the hell out."

"You've made a temple of your darkness. It's only a matter of time before it consumes you."

She managed to shake him off. "It already has."  
Her eyes were empty hollows, endless pools of hopelessness. Her shoulders slumped forward, her chin ducked down. Her entire posture bespoke of pain, of warding him away from her.

Draco shrugged. "Oh, well, then. So much for Gryffindor bravery. You know where to find me if you find it again."

She watched him leave in silence. Her eyes fell on the pale white petals on the table as he shut the door. The scarlet centers were starkly brilliant in the gloomy kitchen.

Ginny slowly sank down to the floor. She covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

Leaning just outside the kitchen door, Draco could hear her sobs. Somehow, she had fallen beyond the limit of light and into a deep shadow. It coated her soul and left her outlook bleak. She despaired of ever being whole again.

It was all right. Draco knew what it was like to live in pieces. It was something Slytherins did very well. Every part of him was compartmentalized and separate. He didn't know what it was like to live completely in the moment, to move as one concerted mind. He was fractured and always had been.

When she was ready, she would find him. He had more than enough time to waste here. If Snape was well and truly dead, no one knew he was alive but his mother. She was hidden away herself, never to be found without Snape's help. Draco was truly isolated, with no responsibilities whatsoever. He was free to do whatever he wished. He could be patient for what he wanted.

Right now, he wanted to know Ginny's secret.

***  
***


	2. Acceptance

_I can't change the way we live today.  
It's just a matter of acceptance anyway.  
I can't change the pain we have to face.  
All our worries in time will fade away._  
Ian Van Dahl, "Nothing Left To Say"  


 

She had pale skin and flame-red hair. She was dressed in forest green and maroon, which suited her. Her steps were measured and precise, and her feet led her straight to the apothecary in town.

Clive Llewelyn was easily ninety years old. He spoke little, and when he did, most people listened. He looked at the ghost-pale girl in the doorway to his shop, and the way David Marsh eyed her. She interested him in a way none of the local girls had done in the years since his arrival six years ago.

Interesting. Very interesting.

"May I help you, Miss?" he asked. In surprise, he watched her shrink into herself. "Is there something you needed?"

"Um... I'm looking about... I'll ask if I can't find it," she replied nervously, eyes darting about. She looked like a caged thing, taking note of every exit.

Clive nodded and retreated into another part of the store. His protege, David Marsh, was toward the back, nearly retreating into the workrooms. Clive had no sons and no daughters left alive. No one remembered a time when he had family. He sometimes liked it that way; no tearful sops of pity were thrown at him. Snape had understood such a thing, and entrusted his student in Clive's care. Young David Marsh had become like a grandson, and Clive was sure that the boy trusted the old man with as much as he felt comfortable.

Draco did respect the crusty old man. He always seemed to know more than he let on, and it was something he admired and tried to emulate as much as possible. He knew exactly when Ginny entered the shop, as if a switch had been turned inside of him. He continued to restock the shelves, seemingly oblivious to Ginny's torment. She went all throughout the shop, finally coming up behind Draco. He dutifully continued to stock the shelf with careful precision.

"Excuse me," she murmured. Draco turned around lazily, as if she was any other customer in the shop. "I need help," Ginny continued in the same soft voice. All bluster and anger was gone. This was the void it left behind in its wake.

"What do you need?" Draco asked, voice pitched low. He looked around, and Clive was nowhere to be seen.

Ginny looked around. Only when she was sure no one else was in the room, she admitted "I need something to take the dreams away." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Hm... You're to have to tell me a bit more." Her eyes lifted to his in surprise. "Dosing is tricky, depending on your weight and the strength of the dreams."

Her eyes fell away. "They're strong."

"Hm..." Draco moved from the section he was to the one just behind Ginny. He perused the bottles, each carefully labeled with the name of the potion. They ranged in color, which helped to denote the strength of the potion. He finally settled on one in deep purple. "Here. It's not the Dreamless Sleep potion. This shouldn't be addictive. But I wouldn't want anyone to have more than two or three days' worth at a time."

"Why?"

"Overdose potential," Draco replied flatly.

"I wouldn't..."

"People kill themselves for less," he said softly, cutting her off. "And besides, we don't know yet if this will be enough or too much. It's an art, one that needs refining to work properly. You'll need to come back tomorrow and let me know how it worked. Then I'll know if this is the right one for you."

Ginny looked at the small purple bottle in her palm. "This is it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. You'll have to tell me."

She bit her lip nervously, a move Draco found most telling. It had taken her over a week to seek him out. Those dreams must have been nightmares, and they must have been utterly atrocious. She carried an air of desperation, as if she was trying so hard not to fall apart. The hairline cracks in her facade were showing now that the righteous anger was gone. Perhaps she figured that there was nothing left to lose.

"Why now?" he asked when she didn't speak.

"It's bad," she said simply, holding the bottle tightly in her fist. "And it needs to stop."

"Tell me," Draco urged.

"How much do I owe you?" she replied instead.

Lips coming together in disapproval, Draco secured the transaction and then watched her leave. _She's right cracked,_ he thought, _but I still want to know why!_

It would take more time, then. He could be patient.

It took five daily visits before the correct dose of the potion was found. Draco knew it by the set of Ginny's shoulders, by the pale shadow of a smile that she gave him. She never responded when he requested that she tell him the source of her troubling dreams. She would sidestep the question as if it had never been asked, or offer him payment with chilled hands.

Something happened to her in her first year. He spent the past two weeks trying to remember any mention of her, but had failed. She hadn't been one of those petrified victims lying in the Infirmary his second year. He had been trying to ask his father about the Heir of Slytherin, or to discover it in the old books tucked away in the library. If the Heir had returned, surely it would be important to know more about him. But the texts regarding Slytherin never discussed any progeny he might have had, any bloodlines he acknowledged. The Founding Four were treated in isolation, as mythical figures. None of the Four had documented progeny in any text that he had been able to find. His father had been strangely silent regarding the Heir of Slytherin, and had even discouraged open research into the matter.

Draco doubted this was the case. It was something small but powerful, something limited to just her. It couldn't have involved all of Gryffindor, let alone the entire school. Her own family hadn't noticed what happened in her first year. Maybe they spent every other year making up for it, but that effort didn't erase the original blot on her psyche.

She had been in an abandoned bathroom, scrubbing blood from her hands. She hadn't wanted to do whatever she had been told to do, and was still haunted by it. Lovegood had mentioned a bloke named Trent, but that was more recent. That one had most likely ripped her wounds right open and preyed upon them. Perhaps he had broken her trust. Perhaps he had tried to kill her for it. Whatever happened, her family now went to great lengths to try to protect her. They had already learned their lesson from her first year. They likely had never trusted her much afterward. She had become some alien thing, a Weasley that didn't fit their Gryffindor mold just right. What Gryffindor used bats in their best offensive hexes? What Gryffindor carried scars across every part of their soul?

She was a puzzle, and Draco had always loved puzzles.

"Here's a two day supply," Draco said, pushing over two tiny black bottles. It was their most powerful version of the sleeping drought Ginny needed. If this hadn't worked, he would have had to combine droughts or create a new one. This one worked, just enough for her to feel functional. It wasn't enough to prevent Draco from experimenting in the workroom. He suspected that her nightmares would get worse before they ever got better. If they got better.

"You said you could give three," Ginny replied mulishly.

"Two for you," Draco said with a definite shake of his head. "I need to make sure..."

"What?"

_You're still breathing. You haven't overdosed. You haven't given in and let this destroy you._

Draco simply smiled his shop smile. "You'll come back in two days. That's a safety measure. These potions can be very dangerous, and we bear responsibility to keep you safe."

There was that flash of terror and anger and despair in her eyes, then it was gone. "You don't have any responsibility to me."

Draco looked at the bottles in her hands, the way she clutched at them so desperately. "Yes, I do."

She put the bottles in her pocket. "I'm the one responsible for me."

He thought of the terror on her face, the way she cowered in the corner of that ancient kitchen. She was beyond the edge of town life, and images of dark haired boys with dark, hollow eyes haunted her. Her dreams tortured her.

An awful thought came to him then. Harry Potter had dated her briefly in sixth year. Everyone had been talking about it, how perfect and lovely they looked. He had seen the silences between them at meal times. He had seen the facade that Potter had built around himself. Draco hadn't noticed Ginny then. What for? She had been part of Potter's shadow. Nothing meaningful had existed between them.

What if Harry Potter, the great and powerful and loved Harry Potter, had done something to her as well? Ginny was a hollow thing who wanted to be whole again. She would have let him do anything, and there was a ruthlessness to him in sixth year that most people couldn't see. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility, horrible as it might have been.

"Maybe someone else should help."

"You?" she challenged, voice full of doubt. "You couldn't help yourself."

Draco's face was mild. "I have a job, a place to live and comfortable hobbies. I don't need potions for a good night's sleep."

As he expected, she stormed out of the shop. She had been so affronted, she hadn't paid for her potions. Draco pulled the money from his pocket to cover the till, then went back to his duties. Clive may have left Ginny's sales to him, but Draco was still expected to continue his back room work.

He tried not to ponder the dark-haired mystery as he ground his powders to perfect consistency. He tried not to think the worst of the great Harry Potter, the git that ultimately ruined everything he had held dear. Draco was older now, and knew that there were larger forces in the world, bigger things than schoolboy rivalries.

Ginny was outside the shop when Draco locked up. She stood there, uncertain. It was late, and she knew that she should have returned to the temple outside of town. It was covered in spells and wards, and had been made into a safe place for her to stay. Her dreams were another story; no one had made allowances for that.

Draco eyed her silently. "Hello," he said finally.

"I didn't pay you," she said softly.

"I know. There's always next time."

Her eyes were covered in shadows from the building. "I don't owe anyone anything."

"Don't you? Not anyone."

"No. I thought I did, but I've figured out that I don't."

"Care to talk about it?"

"Not with you."

"Then I'll see you in two days, Weasley."

"I still haven't paid for the potions."

"Bring it next time. I've covered the till for now."

Her expression was unreadable. "Why?"

"Someone should," Draco replied negligently. "I'm the only one that knows around here."

"Your employer knows," Ginny said darkly.

"Clive doesn't know who you are," Draco explained patiently. "No one knows and no one cares."

"It's a small town. Someone cares."

"You know, Wales is a different kind of place. They don't force you to say anything here. You could be anyone you wanted to be."

"You said you had a different name here..." Ginny began.  
"Yes," Draco agreed. "You could, too. But then, you'd give up that dark secret of yours. Whoever you became wouldn't need it anymore."

"Someone still cares about me," Ginny said hotly, eyes flashing at Draco angrily. "I can't just take off suddenly."

"Maybe Lovegood cares," Draco allowed. "Maybe it's more than just duty for her. I'll allow that. She always had more brains than sense, that one. But other than her, who would notice if you've gone somewhere? Who would think to look for you?"

She glared at him, but remained stubbornly silent.

Draco shrugged. "Suit yourself, Weasley. I'll see you in two days."

She didn't follow him.

She showed up two days later looking almost gaunt. He could tell right away that she hadn't been eating well or sleeping well. Still, it was rather startling to see her decompensate so quickly. She slammed the money on the counter, eyes spitting fire. She looked fourteen again, anger covering up her fear. Draco wondered what had changed in two days, but didn't ask. If she wanted to, she would tell him. There was no one else she could talk to, after all. In about two weeks, Lovegood would show up at the market to meet her. Perhaps she would give Ginny something and perhaps she wouldn't. Maybe Lovegood would bring her some outside news, further explanation as to why she had to remain hidden for so long.

Ginny looked murderous, her focus entirely on Draco. "You did something to that batch because I didn't pay."

Draco checked his tongue and swept the money from the counter gracefully. "I never tamper with the products. And if you remember, you walked away after you've already received the potions. Whatever you feel is probably your own guilt."

She reacted as if slapped. "No."

"Well, I'm guessing they no longer work as well, is that it? Those nasty dreams have grown nastier?" Her mutinous expression answered him. "The mind has ways to force the truth loose. It's got nothing to do with the quality of my potions. I assure you, I take great pride in offering up only the best product."

"They don't work anymore."

"There's only so much a potion will do for you. The rest is something you'll have to figure out. I can't help you unless you tell me, which is something you said you're not willing to do just yet." Draco shrugged. "There's nothing else I can do for you, then."

"I need better potions," Ginny hissed.

"There aren't any."

"Bollocks. A good potions maker can produce a better product! You can do better than this."

His smile was thin, almost skeletal. Ginny's lips thinned, and her eyes sparked fire. "If I can, I haven't seen any reason for it yet. A few nightmares hardly warrant creating something that's potentially deadly."

"I'll pay you."

"You haven't enough to cover the price."

"Name it."

"Your secret," Draco replied flatly. "I won't create something dangerous without knowing why. I've already learned my lesson about nameless favors."

Ginny blanched and backed up a step. "No."

"Well, then. There's the door to your left. I'm awfully busy this time of year. If you'd like to do business, you know where to find me during the day."

He watched her go, amused. She would return, desperate and ready to talk. This dance had gone on long enough.

But the days passed and she didn't appear. By the week's end, the anticipation was nearly driving Draco mad. Ginny had seemed so desperate, so needy. How could she manage on her own? If he really thought it through, it was likely his fault the nightmares had gotten so sharply horrible. He had looked like that dark-haired boy.

On his weekend walk, Draco wandered close to the temple. He hoped her wouldn't find her swinging from a noose; it was a waste of a secret and a pretty face to look at. Draco didn't examine his motives any more closely than that.

Something happened to her first year. Draco doubted that she had killed anyone, even if she had been sobbing and washing blood from her hands. Murder would have been all over the school in moments, even if she had been a golden Gryffindor. It was more likely a failed ritual to resurrect her Mudblood friend from her Petrified state, though Draco couldn't be sure of the timing. Had she been washing away the blood before or after he had seen her then?

Everyone was hiding her now. Someone named Trent was involved; they wanted her hidden until he was found. Draco didn't know the name, it wasn't someone from school. At least, it hadn't been anyone important. But Hogwarts had been full of unimportant people in the grand scheme of things. It was unlikely to be a Slytherin or a Hufflepuff. A Slytherin was unlikely to come near a Gryffindor in this kind of war, and a Hufflepuff wouldn't have the nerve. That left Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, either of which was very likely. Draco hadn't really been friends with any of those students, so a Trent could easily have been there.

Draco had problems imagining any Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instilling such fear in Ginny. She had a built a reputation of being a spitfire, a true Weasley. She was on the Quidditch team, and even had played Seeker when Potter couldn't. He tried to remember any other details, but she had never really been part of his notice. Her hair wasn't so garishly orange; that seemed to be the only positive point in her Weasley name. Even her first name seemed so horribly common.

The temple was quiet, as it always was. Draco had explored it in his early years in town. It later completely escaped his notice, since he thought he knew everything about it.

Obviously, he had been mistaken.

Emboldened by the silence and his prior knowledge of the place, Draco entered the broken fence. The windows were all dark and shadowy, but he knew what lay behind them now. He remembered the ancient kitchen, the faded gloom and the air hopelessness that permeated the broken tile. Her eyes had been empty as she looked into memory. Whoever had broken her to pieces as a child had done a thorough job.

Ravenclaw, maybe. Someone with Slytherin tendencies to be so callous as to break a small child. Draco doubted that it was due to a personal vengeance on the girl herself. She had ben too young and foolish. No, it was likely an attack on her family and her family's leanings. Most Pureblood families might not have approved of their Muggle-loving ways, but most would not have openly attacked another Pureblood family.

_Ours would,_ Draco thought dully. _Either a Malfoy or a Black. They would have then enjoyed the sight of her suffering in the bathroom. They would love to know the far-reaching consequences to their actions. Something Aunt Bella would have planned or participated in; she so enjoyed seeing misery on others' faces._ Draco thought of her impatience with him, her frustrated attempts to teach him ruthlessness in ways she thought appropriate. He had already learned all about Occlumency and Ligilmency; those were likely the only reasons why she hadn't killed him herself. It most certainly wasn't due to loving feelings on her part.

_Weasley's family isn't like that. They hide her, shelter her from what they think is painful. They make her incapable of moving on or mastering her fear._

He didn't know which was worse.

The old temple loomed before him, ivy vines everywhere. It looked deserted, tumble down and empty. He knew better, and moved for the door he knew led to the kitchen.

It opened into a foyer. The entryway was dark and foreboding, clad in shadows and cobwebs. This didn't look like the place Ginny would have stayed in. Even in her gloom, she seemed more vibrant than this.

The foyer led to a crumbling living area. The furniture was in an older, more classic pattern. They were darkly stained woods and rotting violet upholstery, scroll detail carved everywhere. The hardwood floors were stained with time and various spills; Draco didn't want to think of what the stains resembled. The fireplace was full of ashes, the grate cold and drawn aside. The brick work was cracked and faded, crumbling at the edges. There were spots on the walls that used to hold portraits. Their outlines showed clearly against the faded floral wallpaper. It was the same rose color from the kitchen, but with white cabbage roses over a rose background.

Draco found a forgotten doll by the fireplace, its porcelain face cracked with age. The doll's golden curls were covered in dust and ashes, and the violet velvet dress was just as rotted as the upholstery. The stuffing had been pulled loose from the body, the cotton gray with time. The blue eyes stared up at him, the painted cupid's bow of a mouth forever smiling at him. The shoes were missing, the feet and hands broken off from the attached porcelain limbs. The edges would cut him if he picked the doll up.

Everything bespoke of neglect and decay. It was an ancient place that had been left to ruin. Draco couldn't understand why they had sent Ginny to live in a place like this. Surely this was a worse punishment than meeting the mysterious Trent.

Draco moved from the living area to the kitchen. Here was the ancient white ceramic and faded cabbage rose wallpaper. Here were the shadows he remembered. The snow drops remained in the vase on the table, the only mark to show that he had been there. It didn't make sense; they flowers weren't withered, and he knew they hadn't been replaced. He hadn't cast a spell to make them last this long, and didn't think Ginny was the type to do such a thing.

He moved to the dining room, which was empty. The hardwood floors were stained and the walls showed the same outlines as the living area. Every painting had been removed from the walls after being there unchanged for years.

The temple didn't make sense. It was looking more and more like the decaying ruins of an ancestral house, and there were no signs of Ginny. Her relatives had to have been mad to assign her a place like this. It would only deepen her melancholy and reinforce her self-loathing. Living in decay only told her she was worthless, and that she should hide herself from the light.

Draco wondered what her nightmares were about. He should have invited her to his flat. After living in a wreck like this, the poor girl could use some sun and cheeriness. His flat was always airy and open.

Draco found the master bedroom next. There was a massive four poster bed and crumbling furniture that matched the decaying living area. All portraits and paintings had been removed. The red curtains around the bed were the same maroon of Ginny's blouse the first day she had appeared at the apothecary.  
Draco was starting to wonder if he had imagined it all.

He drew the curtains aside, and found Ginny on the bed writhing in agony. She was asleep, tortured by the dreams she couldn't name or block out any longer. He wondered if interacting with him had made them worse, of goading her had only hastened her descent. He wondered if he should feel guilty if it was true.

Not knowing why, Draco climbed onto the bed and tried to hold her down. "Ginny," he said, his voice hoarse. It didn't sound like himself, but of a frightened little boy.

"Don't," Ginny leaded, writhing beneath him. "Don't make me, please. I don't want to. _Please,_ I don't want to."

He flattened himself against her, keeping her body somewhat still. "Ginny, wake up."

She was sobbing. "Tom, I can't do this any longer. Stop it. Let me go. Please, let me go. If you ever cared about me, please let me go."

Draco tucked his head into the curve of her neck. She stank of sweat and fear. Whatever she dreamed, she was terrified and completely caught within its thrall. Whoever Tom was, he had frightened her so completely that her dreams turned against her.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Ginny pleaded, sobbing. She twisted beneath him. "I can't do this anymore, Tom. Don't make me."

"Ginny," Draco whispered against her neck. "Wake up."

Her sobs quieted somewhat. "I do love you," she whispered, voice broken. Her body stopped moving in such an agitated manner. "I don't understand... If you love me, why do you hurt me like this?"

Draco thought of the blood on her hands, the sobs as she tried to scrub herself clean. He thought of the empty rage, the bluster and the fear. She must have been so alone, he realized. A terrified firstie, with no one to turn to. Her precious family would never understand how twisted love could be, how dark and dangerous.

"Tom... Don't be angry with me... You're my only friend, my only real friend..."

"Tell me, Ginny," Draco murmured into her ear. He moved his hands from her wrists and stroked her face very gently. "Tell me everything."

"I do, Tom, I do. You're the only one that understands."

"Yes, Ginny. Tell me."

"I love you," she whispered in a beaten voice, turning away from him. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

"Tell me what you'll do for me."

"You can take me. Take my body, take over my mind. All I have belongs to you, because I love you. Because you're the only one that can love someone as horrible as me. Make me what you want me to be, Tom. I'll be whatever you want me to be." Ginny sobbed openly. "I don't understand why you're so angry with me. I try so hard. I do what you tell me to do, and I don't remember why you're angry with me. Don't you still care, Tom? You're the only one that can love me, the real me. You're the only one that loves me."

Draco was sickened by her pitiful rambling. Someone had twisted her mind into knots. No wonder she was so volatile. She counted herself a worthless drone.

"Do you still love me, Tom? What else do I have to do to make you love me?" Ginny pleaded. "I promise I'll be good. I won't talk back. I'll do whatever you say, whatever you want. Please, Tom... Please..."

Draco kissed her temple, and Ginny settled down a bit. "Ginny. Tell me."

"I'll do whatever you want," she whispered brokenly. Her head fell to the side, exposing her neck, and her limbs were splayed. "I'll be whatever you want me to be."

Unbidden, Draco's body reacted to hers. "Ginny..."

"Yes... I'll do anything, Tom, please believe me. I won't ever disobey you again. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. Please believe me, Tom."

"I believe you," Draco ground out, his body flush against hers. He hadn't been with a girl in years, but his body remembered what it felt like.

"Do you still love me? Am I your good girl?"

"Yes," Draco whispered against her ear. "Yes, you are."

"What do you want me to do? How can I prove I love you?"

His body reacted to her words. Draco shut his eyes and tried not to feel dirty. "What have I been making you do, Ginny? What have I asked of you?"

Her face contorted into anguish. "I let it loose, Tom, just like you told me to. It wasn't fun, not like you promised. You said I'd be powerful, and they'd love me. But they're all scared, and I'm still alone."

Draco's hands caressed her almost of their own volition. "I'm still here. I'm not scared."

She visibly relaxed and arched into his touch. "You're the only one that loves me. You're the only one that cares."

This was too ingrained to be recent work, and Draco wanted to castrate the bastard that had warped a little girl. A Death Eater, maybe. Aunt Bella would have laughed if she heard about this little prank against the Weasleys.

"I'll get the blood," Ginny crooned, rubbing herself against his arching body. "I'll open the door for you. I'll do whatever you want, Tom."

Blood and doors. Definitely first year. Dear Merlin, had some monster molested her then?

"What else do I have you do for love?" Draco asked her.

She arched against him. "You can take my body. I'll give it over to you, so you can feel alive again. You can feel the sun, and you can see. Let me prove I'm worthy enough for you. I'm a good girl, I'm a good girl. I'll be good, Tom. I'll do anything for you."

"Such devotion," Draco murmured, eyes shutting.

"I give myself to you, body and soul." It sounded like an incantation. "You can use me as a tool, wield your magic through me. You can live again and rise through me. I give you my soul, to be material, to be flesh and blood again. I'll love you for all time, I promise you."

Dear Merlin, what had happened ten years ago?

"Ginny, what have I made you do? How did you prove to me you're my good girl?"

She smiled an angel's smile. "I woke the basilisk for you, Tom. I'd do anything for you."

Draco's blood ran cold. "The Chamber of Secrets."

"When you rise again, we can be together. We won't ever be separated. I'll love you forever."

His forehead fell to her neck. "You opened the Chamber."

"Everything for you, Tom. I'll do anything for you."

Her eleven-year-old mind had been corrupted by Dark Arts. She had been used to commit unspeakable atrocities that he only now could comprehend. He didn't understand the enormity of her role yet. He couldn't.

Ginny rubbed herself against his thigh, and she seemed to be making purring sounds. Draco brought his hand to her nightgown and pulled it up. His fingers found her moist and wet, almost aching for him. "I'm your good girl, aren't I?"

"Ginny..." Draco's mouth had run dry, and he was aching for her touch. Almost without thinking, he plunged his fingers deeply inside of her. Her moan was exquisite.

"I've been good, I promise," she whimpered, but there was something in her voice that was different. Her desperation carried a different edge to it, less innocent somehow.

"How have you been good?" Draco asked, voice strained.

Ginny somehow flinched with her eyes closed. "I didn't talk to her, I swear it. I walked away, just as you wanted me to, and she didn't see me." There was an agonized quality to her voice. "I've done right, for once."

"How will you do right?" Draco asked. He wondered if her secret was worth this, if he needed to know that badly.

"I won't ever see Mum again. I'll quit my job and stay home. I'll stop being a dirty whore, I promise." Tears streamed from her shut eyes. "Please, Trent, I promise!"

Draco felt sick. Yet his fingers continued to move, his cock continued to twitch. His body had a life of its own, it seemed, and it no longer obeyed him.

Ginny was spreadeagled on the bed, her wrists cocked as if she was tied down. She arched against his hand, gasping. She bit her lip, as if trying to force herself to keep quiet. Even the soft  
purring sounds were gone now, and Draco hadn't realized how much he enjoyed the sound until it was gone. Her head was thrown back, her back arched oddly. What in Merlin's name was she dreaming about now?

She came without a sound, convulsing around his fingers. After catching her breath, she opened her mouth obediently.

Draco blinked. "What?"

"I'm ready to clean off your fingers now."

He watched in surprise as she took his fingers into her mouth and sucked on them, laving them completely with her tongue. Once she was done, she kissed his wrist reverently. "Thank you, Trent. I can never repay your kindness."

"Well, fuck me," Draco murmured, stunned. This was not what he thought Trent was about at all.

Ginny obediently rolled over onto all fours, her face pressed down into the pillow. "I've been good," she murmured softly. "I did everything as you asked. I don't need a whipping today. Please take what is your due."

Draco's jaw dropped. Oh, dear. If her family knew about this, Trent would be a dead man. That Lovegood said they were looking for him meant they couldn't know.

"Trent?" Ginny whispered, voice afraid. "I don't need punishing, I promise. I'm faithful and true."

Yes, he was sure that she had been. Unable to bear the sight of her bared to him any longer, Draco pulled her nightgown down, covering her bare bottom.

She whimpered then. "How have I displeased you? I'll fix it. I'll make it up to you, I swear." Draco could hear the tears in her voice. "I'll do better. I'll be quiet, even with the iron, I swear it. I won't make a sound. Please, Trent, _please."_

Draco could smell the scent of her desire, and he was still hard. He knelt and drew up the nightgown, exposing her. She gave a happy sigh and pressed her face into the pillow. Draco caressed her soft bottom gently, then traced the curve where her buttocks met the backs of her thighs. He could see her damp slit, and he dragged his finger over the wet curls.

"You're too good to me," she murmured, turning her head to the side. "You're better than I deserve. You're wonderful."

_No, he wasn't,_ Draco wanted to say. Trent took a broken girl and abused her further. It didn't matter which House he had come from. It didn't matter what background he hailed from. The man was filth, plain and simple.

He really wasn't any better, truth be told. Draco was a selfish and greedy man. He hadn't wanted to die, so he hid. He wanted to keep from boredom, so here he was, hounding Weasley. When she didn't come to him, he went to her. And now that he knew her dreadful secrets, he still wasn't satisfied. He still felt empty and petty and useless. Draco unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down to his knees. He wasn't even a very proud man any longer.

He plunged deeply inside of her, feeling the hot, wet warmth all around him. For all that she must have been used harshly, she still felt tight. He moved slowly, agonizingly slowly, his hands tight around her hips. He groaned at the contact, the exquisite feel of her, the sensation of having sex at last. He had lived like a monk these past few years, not even wanking.

She was silent, just as she promised. He reached around and stroked her swollen clitoris, and still she was silent. She was still, too, holding herself tightly in place. Her inner muscles clenched tightly around him, wrapping around his aching cock like a velvet vise. Draco could hear his own grunts, loud in the oppressive silence.

She moved suddenly, quickly withdrawing her heat from him just as he was starting to thrust faster. Stunned, he watched her contort herself to take him into her mouth. She sucked him expertly, tongue sliding along the shaft in a delirious but mechanical rhythm. He grabbed the back of her head for balance. She seemed to be expecting it, as her rhythm didn't change. Even when he held her hair in tight fists, she still sucked on him lovingly. Draco groaned, feeling his release approaching. Ginny changed her motion then, taking him further into her mouth. The head of his cock brushed the back of her throat. It was too much, and he came in spurts down her throat. He could feel her swallow his seed obediently. She licked him gently, kissing the head reverently when she was done.

"You're too good to me. I don't deserve you."

He could still smell her, the desperate and frustrated desire still wet between her thigh. He held her head where it was, her hair clenched between his fists. He didn't allow her to move. He didn't know what else she would do, what else the bastard had trained her to do. He apparently degraded her however he could, and Ginny had accepted it all without any complaints.

She took him back into her mouth, obediently beginning to suck. Her tongue traced patterns as she began to move slightly, and Draco let go of her hair. He hardened inside of her mouth, and the scent of her sex was heavy in the air.

When he felt hard enough, Draco pulled Ginny away. She fell back in confusion. "But I did everything right, Trent. Please don't punish me."

Draco pushed her onto her back and wedged her knees apart with his own. He held her wrists down when she tried to move, and he pushed his way deeply inside of her. As good as her mouth was, she felt like heaven. He wanted the sweet feel of her, the clench of her body around his. He wanted her wet heat and grasping muscles. He thrust deeply, bringing her to startled climax even as he edged closer to his own. When he came, spurting deeply within her hot depths, Draco let go of her wrists. He fell to the side after a moment, his soft cock falling out of her. His seed spilled onto her thigh. Draco moved to try to wipe it away with the blanket, but Ginny moved again.

"I'll clean you off. I'll take care of you."

She licked him clean with the same reverence she had paid to his fingers. She nuzzled him gently, then curled up on her side. She made no move to clean herself. The bastard likely didn't let her. Ginny seemed to drift into a deep and steady sleep. He was sexually sated, but his mind whirred unpleasantly. He cleaned her up with a simple spell, then retreated from the bedroom. The other rooms were just as gloomy and depressing as before, and the sunlight outside seemed almost too bright.

Now what was he going to do?

***  
***


	3. Connection

_Don't listen to the hearts of the world  
The answer lies within  
You know the truth  
An instrument you can become  
Play real loud for me  
Your future's just begun  
Your future's just begun_  
BT, "Lullaby For Gaia"

 

She came in the next day, just as the shop was closing. Her breath was ragged, as if she had run the entire way. Draco looked up, key in the lock of the front door. He had somehow managed to get to sleep the night before, and he had managed to keep her off his mind all day with tedious potions work. Draco was surprised by the desperate look Ginny gave him.

"I wanted you to know I was okay," she said without preamble. "After what you said and didn't say about overdosing, you must have been worried."

"Yes, I suppose I was," Draco murmured, thinking back to his walk the day before. Now all he could think about was the way she smelled and the way her body had held his tight. He couldn't stay celibate now.

"It got worse," she murmured. "It's been getting worse for a while, now, really," Ginny said in a rush, not letting Draco speak. "But that's why when you said you worked at an apothecary, I wanted something that would stop the dreams. But even so, they kept getting worse and worse, and finally, it was like I couldn't wake up. Every nightmare turned into another one, and even when I was awake, they followed me everywhere. I thought I was seeing things."

"And now?" Draco prompted when she fell silent.

Her breath caught. "I've only now actually slept. I woke up a while ago, and I debated even coming here. The potions weren't working. I thought you at least needed to know I was all right."

"Are you all right?"

"I suppose so."

"Did you want a potion?" Draco asked almost abruptly.

She didn't seem off-put by his brusque tone. "I don't know. No... No, I suppose not."

Draco turned the key and the lock slid shut. He put the key into his pocket. "I know your secret."  
Ginny blanched pure white. "No, you don't."

She seemed to be trying to convince him of that, but Draco had spoken with absolute certainty. "I do," he said firmly. He grasped hold of her elbow and steered her toward his flat. This conversation had no place being out in the open.

"You can't," she gasped, wrenching her arm away.

He walked to his flat, sure that she would follow. She did, insisting all the while that he had been gone for so long from the Wizarding World, and he really had no idea what he was talking about anymore. Once Ginny Weasley was standing in his living room, Draco didn't know what to do with her. Which was completely silly, but that was what it was. He had no idea how to go about this conversation, and it certainly hadn't been anything he had planned. It happened as the words tumbled from his mouth, without any formal thought behind them. She had sought him out, but the thrill of the chase was gone. He knew everything already, even the things she couldn't admit to herself. It hadn't been very hard to puzzle out, and everything had suddenly made sense. Draco supposed that experience with disappointment and time in the real world had tempered him from the hateful boy he had been. He was still selfish, though he was certainly capable of kindness on occasion. He wasn't entirely evil or deranged.

"Would you like tea?" Draco asked, at a loss of where to begin. It was silly now. His wants and fantasies about having secrets were childish. Any secret he might've had or gleaned from others paled in comparison to hers.

"Yes, please."

She looked out of place in his living room. She was dressed in dark clothing, her cloak still about her shoulders. His entire living room set was done in light woods and simple textures. It was a far cry from Malfoy Manor, but it had been his home for six years, and it was comfortable.

"Tell me about your family," Draco said as he put the kettle on the stove. By her startled expression, he could tell that she hadn't expected pleasantries.

"What's to tell?"

She was evasive and nervous. The old guilt was back, the armor sliding into place. Draco was disappointed to see it.

"Well, I've been gone so long. I've missed a lot. You can tell me about that."

She told him of the rumors. He was presumed dead, and no one had been able to get onto the grounds of Malfoy Manor. His mother had disappeared, and his father appeared to have been Kissed in Azkaban. Most of his classmates joined the Death Eaters that year immediately after Dumbledore's death, and just as many joined Auror school. Chaos had erupted in the wake of the battle, and Professor McGonagall had stepped in to lead the school. Most of the students were already gone by then, and soon enough came the announcements in the Daily Prophet of Death Eater raids and people killed or tortured.

"Where did you go?" Draco asked quietly, placing tea bags into mugs. "They wouldn't have let fight with them."

Her expression darkened. "After George was killed and Fred and Ron wounded, I was sent away to be safe. I was in Dover, of all places. They thought family friends could take care of me there."

"They didn't, did they?" Ginny looked at him sharply, anger in her tight expression. "You wouldn't be here if Dover worked out," Draco said reasonably.

"They joined the war, if you must know. I helped."

She lapsed into silence. A moment later, the tea kettle whistled. Draco took it from the stove and poured water over the tea bags.

"Then what?" Draco asked, handing her one mug. "It doesn't end there."

"It may as well have," Ginny replied tartly.

"But it didn't."

"You say you know my secret," Ginny said after a moment. "How? You've been here all this time, and I didn't tell you."

_But you did,_ Draco thought, thinking of her tears.

"When did the dreams begin?" he asked instead.

"Some of them, I've always had," Ginny replied with a negligent wave. "It doesn't matter."

Draco watched her sip the tea in silence. Of course it did. If it didn't matter, she wouldn't have been trying to stop them.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

Down that path lay treacherous waters, and he steered his mind away. He sipped his own tea thoughtfully. "Tell me how Snape died," he said quietly.

"Why? It was some stupid raid. I only heard about it by accident, anyway."

"The war couldn't have continued," Draco murmured.

"It didn't." Ginny's voice was dull and lifeless. This was a side of her that he had grown used to. Lifeless and empty, with tracings of anger to cover it all up. Draco had done that, too, at first. But life was for the living, and he had moved on.

Ginny had never moved on. She had never been able to.

Draco thought maybe it was because he had Adrian Rhys, at least. Adrian had been absolutely determined to be friendly, stopping by every day, then inviting him to the Rhys home for dinner. Adrian was off at University at the moment, and it had become dreadfully boring in town without him. Somehow, Draco managed to drag out his days. He had absolutely refused to go to a Muggle or Magical university, given that he was no longer as wealthy as he used to be. Draco now knew what a savings and checking account were, and he used both wisely.

"Do you want some takeaway?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed at him in suspicion. "Why are you being so nice to me, Malfoy? What's in it for you?"

Draco blinked. "Good question. I haven't figured out that part yet."

Her lips compressed into a thin line. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco drank his tea and pondered the question seriously. "You know, I've never really stopped to think about it. At first it was enough just to have survived. Then it was keeping my identity hidden. And then... I guess I stopped thinking about it." He took a long drink of tea. "When I saw you, I thought maybe finding your secret would give me something to do. But now that I know what it is, I don't care anymore."

"You keep saying that!" she snapped, annoyed. "You _can't_ know!"

Draco looked at her sadly. "The Chamber. Trent."

Ginny went deathly pale. "You can't..." Her jaw set and her eyes flashed unholy fire. "You bastard. It wasn't your father, then. It was _you!"_ She lunged for him, dropping the mug of tea to the floor. Draco fell backward as it shattered, warding her off awkwardly.

"What are you on about, you daft bint?!" he shouted. His own mug fell from his grasp and fell to the floor, shattering.

They rolled around on the floor, knocking into his couch. Ginny's hands wound around his throat. She shook him, knocking his head into the floor. "You bastard! That diary ruined my life!"

Draco must have had a concussion. He couldn't possibly be hearing right. "What diary?" he croaked when he managed to suck in air.

Ginny paused mid-shake. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not. What are you on about?"

"If you didn't have it..."

Draco pushed her slack hands from his throat. "Yesterday, I went to the house looking for yu. You talk in your sleep," Draco said flatly, seeing the disbelief in her eyes. "You said you opened the Chamber for Tom."

She shook her head and backed away from Draco. "That... I never talked in my sleep before, never. You're lying."

Draco could almost see her mentally shove that aside for discussion later. "So you didn't give me the diary?"

_"What_ diary?" Draco asked, bewildered.

"The diary... Tom..." Ginny was looking at him almost desperately. "It was Tom's diary. He was the one I was writing to. He trapped a piece of his soul inside it."

Draco's brow had furrowed as she spoke. "So you were trying to make a _book_ like you?"

Her eyes flashed angrily. "Are you deliberately being this dense?" she snapped.

"What? He sounded real! Why else would you be so damned scared of him?"

"Because he was Tom Riddle," she explained.

Draco looked at her blankly. "So?"

_"Tom Riddle."_

"You said that. Okay. What's that got to do with anything?"

"He grew into Voldemort."

Though she whispered it almost guiltily, Draco still felt as if she had screamed the name. "But... That... That was Dark Magic," Draco said dumbly. "He..."

"He was a boy once," Ginny murmured sadly. "He was nice once. He was to me at first."

A lonely firstie, forgotten by her many siblings, likely teased for her Weasley red hair and her shabby clothes. She hadn't fit in, not at first. She only started getting popular at the end of his third year, when her physical attributes were being noticed. She had been a tomboy before that.

Tom again.

But that had to be how it began, Draco reasoned. Alone, with only diary to comfort her. Only a diary, but armed with part of Voldemort's soul. The diary would have been so seductive. She never stood a chance.

"Why would you think I did it? Or my father?" he asked, shaking his head. He pulled himself up onto the couch. "You're a Weasley. I never would've come near you then."

Her jaw clamped shut. "Your father and mine fought."

"But I didn't care about you. I'd hardly even noticed you then. Why would you think it was me?"

"Your father... He did Dark Magic. He had Dark artifacts. He was one of Voldemort's supporters. Why do you _think_ he would have done it?" she snapped.

Draco shook his head fiercely, but it only made the dizziness worse. "But he was dead and gone by then..."

Ginny looked at him with something akin to pity. "You really didn't know, did you?"

Draco grit his teeth and leveled his best glare at her. She was unfazed, but he knew she had dealt with worse than him before. _"What?"_ he ground out.

"He possessed me." Ginny advanced toward Draco, almost menacingly, hovering over him. "Our souls were together. I knew everything he knew, everything he wanted to know, everything he wanted to do. He was part of me, Malfoy. He was everything to me."

Draco watched as the intensity of her gaze softened and her voice dropped. Without thinking he pulled her down onto his lap. She fell in surprise, straddling. "I'm sorry," Draco murmured.

Her laughter was a bitter bark. "Why should you be?"

"I should have let my father get Kissed."

The stark simplicity of his statement shocked her. "What?"

"I had Snape send him potions so he could have an easier death. Yesterday... I thought Tom was real, that he... Well, I don't know what I thought he did." _Liar,_ Draco thought. _You know exactly what you thought he did._ "I'm sorry," he murmured, touching her face. "I hated the wrong person yesterday."

Ginny blinked. "What?"

"It's something he would have done," Draco murmured helplessly. "He believes in the old ways, that Pureblood is best and all that rot. He would have enjoyed that. He and my Aunt Bella were like that sometimes. I... I should have known _something_ was happening. He was too pleased with himself. He wouldn't tell me anything, not who the Heir of Slytherin was, nothing. He would laugh to know the real harm he's done to you."

Whatever she had been expecting Draco to say, he could tell that it clearly hadn't been what he just said. He almost enjoyed that he could set her off kilter. His head still spun a bit, and he was likely to have bruises. Not to mention his two favorite mugs were broken, which he had used to try to impress her.

It had been silly, but he wanted her to like him.

"Why would you care?" Ginny said sulkily, looking away. "You didn't know me. You hardly noticed me, you said."

Draco suddenly remembered her tears, the helpless tries to scrub her hands clean. The way she had been in her kitchen had troubled him the entire time.

"That house is falling apart, Weasley," Draco said abruptly. "You should go to a better place."

"I'm fine," she spat through grit teeth. She tried to get up, but Draco caught her tightly about the waist. She glared at him, and he knew it would have intimidated lesser men instantly. "Let go of me, Malfoy."

He kissed her. He wound his hands through her hair, heedless of her stiff posture. He kept kissing her, and almost reluctantly her mouth opened under his. His tongue dove into her mouth, exploring gently. He took his time tasting her, feeling her begin to soften against him. His cock was caught between them, and he knew that a single kiss would never be enough.

When it ended an eternity later, it felt as if he had ripped something from his chest.

Dazed, Ginny pulled back slightly. "What was that for?"

"I wanted to taste you," Draco murmured. His hands fell to the small of her back. He felt comfortable with her there, he realized. He liked how she looked in his home.

Her face was shuttered. "I'm not for sale."

He grabbed hold of her hips. "When did it start getting bad?" he asked desperately. "When did you know?"

"What are you talking about?"

He had no idea, but he couldn't tell her that. "You loved them once, before they hurt you, before they made you hate yourself. When did you know it wasn't really love?"

Her face was even more closed off. Draco hadn't thought it was even possible. "Let go of me, Malfoy," she said, voice like ice.

If he did, he would never see her again. He was sure of it, just as he was sure that he needed her.

"Don't," he pleaded, tightening his hold over her hips. He pulled her back when she moved away. "They broke you to pieces, but only got that close because you loved them. I don't understand how it changes."

"If I did," Ginny snapped, "don't you think I'd change it? Don't you think I'd undo every foolish mistake I've ever made?"

There. Anger. He could deal with anger.

"I can't see it," Draco insisted. "I can't see you letting someone do this, or your family not doing something about it."

The anger shut off abruptly, and she was withdrawing again. "Shows how much you know, Malfoy. Nothing. You've never known anything."

"How long have you had the nightmares?" he asked, ignoring the bitterness in her voice. He didn't even know why it mattered.

She froze, unable to move. Then, instinct visibly took over. "I have to go."

"No."

She struggled, panicked. Her face was the same desperate one that he had seen in her kitchen. The nightmares had tortured her for years. She likely couldn't remember a time without them.

Draco pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered against her ear. "I'm sorry."

She struggled, fighting him. She was a caged thing, a frightened thing. She didn't want him near her, and she struck his arms and chest as best as she could. "Let go of me!" she cried. She sounded terrified. "Let go of me! Stop it!"

She had told them the same, he was sure. They hadn't once done as she asked, had they?

Just as abruptly, Draco let go. She tumbled from his lap to the floor. She pushed her hair from her face and looked at him expectantly. "Now what?"

His stomach rumbled. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. I want some takeaway."

"Not that," Ginny said, annoyed and rolling her eyes.

Draco shrugged. "Well, I haven't any leftovers for you," he said, deliberately misunderstanding her. He didn't know what he wanted anymore. He didn't know what his next move was.

Uncertainty always used to torture him. Now, he didn't mind it so much. Every moment was a mystery to discover.

"What will you do with me?" she asked, teeth grit in frustration.

Draco got up and sighed over the two broken mugs. "I'd liked those." One was sky blue with snowflakes. The other was a bright, sunny yellow with orange wavy lines on it. The first reminded him of his mother, the second of his trip to the beach with the Rhys family. He picked up the pieces gingerly. "My wand is about here somewhere," he muttered to himself. He rummaged in the kitchen drawer, but didn't find it there. "Oh! Of course."

Ginny watched him disappear down the narrow hallway to her left. She watched him return, wand in hand. He quickly repaired the two mugs and the tea stains of the rug. Draco then tossed his wand into the kitchen drawer.

"You don't care for your wand properly," Ginny said haughtily, then immediately grew flame-red in the face.

"I don't do magic much anymore," Draco replied with a negligent shrug. "Seems like a waste to carry it around all the time." He rummaged in his cabinets. "Is pasta all right with you?"

Numbly, Ginny nodded.

Draco hummed to himself as he boiled the ziti. He knew he was throwing her off balance. He wasn't anything she had expected him to be. And here was a Malfoy cooking for a Weasley! One of his ancestors was likely rolling in his grave. Draco hoped it was his father.

"Adrian's mother taught me how to cook. She felt it to be a supreme folly for a single bloke to not know how to make a few simple meals. Adrian could burn water, though. If not for the cafeteria, he's be living on takeaway by now," Draco said, a smile on his face. He watched Ginny slowly get up from the floor, then turned to look for the sauce jar in his cabinet. "I should ring him, I suppose. I think his exams are over. I should find out when he's coming back. I think you'd like him. Rather cheery fellow, really. Almost obnoxious, but he means well."

"Who is he?" she asked almost reluctantly, standing in front of the counter that separated the kitchen area from the living room of the flat. Draco had three wooden stools there, and she sat on one of them gingerly.

"Oh, my best mate, I suppose. His own fault, really. He and his Mum just wouldn't leave me alone when I first arrived. They'd love for me to get on with his younger sister, but she hasn't got two brain cells. Neither do any of her dotty friends. Alanna's nice enough, I suppose. More of a sister, I'm afraid."

Ginny looked at him, confusion and surprise etched onto her face. She blinked, as if unable to reconcile the boy she had once known and the man in front of her.

But she had never really known him, just as he had never really known her. It was chance that brought them together now, and it seemed to be almost cruel irony.

"You haven't any sisters, just all those awful brothers," Draco continued blithely. "Maybe your Mum's like Adrian's. She's frightfully bossy sometimes."

Her dull face was back. "Was," Ginny whispered.

Draco looked up from the sauce in the second pot. "What?"

"She _was_ like Adrian's Mum."

"Oh." Draco put the lid on the second pot. "I'm sorry."

"You keep saying that."

"I actually mean it. I do believe the world is about to end," he added when she didn't reply.

"You... You're so normal," Ginny whispered, confused.

"Snape's greatest gift to me, I suppose. Not that I knew it at the time. I wouldn't have appreciated it if he told me, either. That silly war was so far from here. It didn't matter. Nothing did anymore. Muggles aren't the awful creatures my father thought them to be, and blood doesn't matter."

"It wasn't silly," Ginny said, voice hard.

"Eh?"

"The war. It wasn't silly. People _died."_

Draco nodded and checked on the ziti. "Yes, I suppose they did. People do that all the time. You know what I meant, though. If the Dark Lord won, Mudbloods and Muggles would die. If Potter won, Death Eaters would die. Somebody always dies, but nobody thinks about that. _That's_ the silly part. No one thinks of the true cost of war."

"What do you care if Muggles die?" she asked contemptuously, face caught in an ugly sneer.

"Adrian's a Muggle," Draco said simply. "Or maybe his family is all Squib. Who cares? They all know magic exists here. It's _Wales._ There's always been magic here."

"I wouldn't expect you to say that."

"No, I don't suppose you would."

There was an uncomfortable silence while Draco stirred the sauce. Ginny chewed on the inside of her lip uncertainly, brows furrowed in thought.

Merlin, he wanted to take her to bed.

_Stop this foolishness,_ he told himself firmly. _You don't really know her, you've only guessed. You were only half right about the first secret._

"They're both dead," Ginny said abruptly.

"Who?"

"Voldemort and Harry. They killed each other."

Draco put down his stirring spoon carefully. "When?"

"A year and a half after you left."

"Oh." Draco thought back. "I guess that's why the summer festival had fireworks, then. I never did ask."

"There were still struggles afterward. The Death Eaters were hard to find, and they kept killing."

"One of those things they do best," Draco agreed.

She looked at him, annoyed. "You don't care, do you? All those people died. Classmates raped and tortured and beaten? Crucio'd to death?"

"It matters, Weasley," Draco replied calmly. "I can't do a blessed thing about it, can I? I was here, they died far away. I couldn't have done anything."

"They raped Pansy," she said nastily. Draco paused. "I hear it was brutal."

"I would have thought she'd join them. Our parents were friends, and her father was most likely a Death Eater."

"She did. They were disappointed with her."

Draco let out a sigh. They had been friends once, though she was annoying and not really pretty. Their parents were friends, so it had never really been a question of their being friends as well. There likely would have been marriage involved. The Parkinsons were upstarts, new money, but her maternal bloodline was long and pure. It helped that they understood each other. They would have been able to tolerate marriage to each other. Hell, she had been his first, teaching him what to do. He had introduced her to Theodore Hartwick at the beginning of their third year during a common room party. She had been infatuated with the Slytherin chaser since second year, but he was a senior, a seventh year Prefect when they were in third year. Ted had taken her up to his rooms, and Draco had caught them shagging against the wall in their common room one night. But he was to marry someone else, and had merely been playing with her. For a while, Pansy had been happy. After the Yule Ball, she had led him to an abandoned classroom and returned the favor. They were still friends, despite everything. He just hadn't been able to confide in anyone sixth year. His task and humiliation were just too great, and he could tell no one about his plans.

"So she's dead, then?" he asked finally.

"St. Mungo's. She was driven insane."

He sighed at her ugly, bitter words. "She had her faults, but she didn't deserve that," he murmured. He reached for the spoon and stirred the sauce pot.

"You didn't deserve to live, but here you are."

He looked up at her, anger simmering beneath his skin. She was still raw edges, the hopelessness evident in her eyes. "I'll forgive you your ignorance, Weasley. I didn't kill anyone, couldn't do it. So spare me the sanctimonious attitude. _I_ didn't hurt you."

Her lips thinned. "Yes, you have."

His eyes narrowed at her. "Why? Because your nightmares didn't stop? Because they got worse? The drugged stupor didn't work?"

She had the decency to flush with embarrassment, but he held no joy in it. She just didn't know how to focus her anger, or where to direct it. So she lashed out wherever she could. It had seemed to work for her before, and it was all she really knew.

"What else happened out there? Where did you go when you helped out?"

"I don't talk in my sleep," Ginny said sharply at the same time Draco spoke.

He was wondering when she would get to that. "You do. You did yesterday."

"Even when I was at... Well, I never did before now. I'm not sure if I should believe you."

"You lie very well," Draco said, taking the pot of ziti from the stove. He drained the pasta and returned to his post at the stove.

"I'm not lying! I don't lie!"

"Sure, you don't," Draco agreed amiably. "You just keep secrets and avoid telling truths, is that it? To hide it all away until people forget?"

Her face blanched white. "You don't know what that's like, Malfoy," she hissed.

"No, I don't, sorry. Can't say I've ever avoided the truth or hidden away from it," he said sarcastically. "I only have a new name and identity for fun."

She watched him distribute the pasta with barely contained fury. "It's not the same thing."

Draco spooned out the sauce over the ziti and placed a plate in front of her. He gave her a fork and napkin in silence, then served himself. He brought his place to the counter and sat down, one stool lying empty between them.

"Why am I even still here?" Ginny asked angrily after a few moments. She threw her fork down.

"Because I'm feeding you dinner," Draco said patiently. "Finish up before it gets cold."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Is this what you tell all the girls?" she scoffed.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Much as I'm flattered, Weasley, you're the first girl not vaguely related to me who's been here."

Her brows knit in frustration. "What?"

"Alanna and Adrian's Mum. That's it."

"That's it?"

"Well, yes. I've been working. Or walking about." He shrugged in the face of her disbelief and ate his pasta. "Adrian thinks I've grown deadly dull and should've gone to school."

"Why didn't you?"

"I can't get a scholarship and it costs too much. Besides, if I stay here and keep working at the shop, Clive'll just leave it to me. He told me as much a while ago. Too few still do the art really well, he thinks. So I'll be a shopkeeper someday. It's not a bad thing to aspire to."

She gawked at him, amazed. "You've changed."

"You never knew me to start with. I'd say you've changed, but I didn't know you, either. I'd say that bit in your first year changed you from who you would've been."

Her grip on the fork was punishing, turning her knuckles white. Her jaw was tight again, and she looked ready to scream. Draco wondered how many times she had come close to snapping, or if she'd ever allowed herself the luxury. He rather doubted it.

"And the golden boy is dead. So there's no one left to fight the world's battles," Draco mused.

"Don't you dare mock Harry! He saved us all by making the ultimate sacrifice."

"He couldn't save you," Draco replied calmly.

"He already has!" she snapped.

Draco vaguely remembered something about Potter saving the school during their second year. He remembered being disappointed, but not really paying attention to the whole thing. He had been looking forward to summer then.

"What? From Trent?"

Ginny when ghostly pale and looked almost ready to fall off the stool. "You..."

"You mentioned him, too," Draco said gently. "In your sleep."

She was pure white. Her reactions were fascinating; he doubted any of her family knew how readable her face truly was. "You don't know a thing about it." she whispered fervently, hand still tight around the fork.

He gently pried it from her grasp. "Maybe. I didn't get the whole story, after all. But he's hardly the kind of man I would imagine you with. Hexing, maybe, as you've got a horrifically powerful hexing skill."

She didn't smile at him, and he was rather disappointed.

"He hurt you," Draco murmured gently. "That much is obvious. He should be put down like the dog he is."

"Don't," Ginny whispered desperately. "Don't act like you know. Don't act like you care."

"Basic human decency, Weasley. I do have it, you know. If I didn't, Mrs. Rhys would've beaten it into me by now." Draco speared some pasta and held it out to her. "Here, eat. You're much too thin now."

"But–" She gulped the pasta when he shoved the forkful into her mouth. "You can't..." she began almost helplessly.

"I can see the bones through your skin, Weasley. You're a breath away from collapsing. Just eat, already. Argue later."

She took the fork back with as much dignity as she could muster. "I'm not a child."  
"Might as well be," Draco muttered under his breath.

They finished in silence. "Thank you," Ginny said, almost reluctantly. Draco suppressed the urge to smirk at her. "I've had biscuits and tea all week. I was too nauseous for any real food."

"Bad memories do that," Draco said mildly.

She looked at him sharply. "Don't act like you know."

"Then tell me," Draco replied, putting the dishes into the sink. His domestic turn truly rattled her; Draco shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as he did. "Stop saying I don't know. He had you on all fours begging for it."

Her eyes grew wide and she stopped breathing. She stumbled backward, falling over the stool. Draco rushed to her side, but she batted his hands away.

"Gods, I'm pathetic," she sobbed as Draco caught her hands. "I should've just killed myself when I had the chance. Anything would be better than this."

Draco knelt beside her sprawled form and pulled her up to her knees as well. "Death isn't the answer, Weasley."

"Sometimes it is," she whispered.

"The ultimate control. It ends when you want it to."

_"Yes."_ There was startled relief in her eyes.

"I want to kiss you," Draco whispered. "Is it horrid of me?"

She visibly gulped. "Is it horrid that I want you to?"

He pulled her into a kiss, hot and open, his tongue sliding into her mouth. He touched his tongue to hers, sliding over it. Her hands wound their way through his hair, and one of his hands settled comfortably on one lush breast. His other hand was gently cradling the back of her head, giving her balance as he tried to devour her mouth. His thumb brushed across her nipple in lazy circles, making her gasp beneath his mouth.

She pulled herself away suddenly, face white. "Oh, dear Merlin. I _am_ a filthy whore. I am a dirty tramp."

"No," Draco said, shaking his head. "That's not true."

"I don't even know you and I'd let you shag me."

He grinned. "Lovely. Because I want to fuck you into my mattress until sunrise."

She stared at him, mouth falling open. "That's not funny."

"I wasn't joking," Draco replied, knee-walking to her side. He fell slightly, to that his arms framed her. "I want it. I want to feel you around me. I want to have you writhe beneath me because you're about to come and can't stand it. I want to _feel you,_ I want to taste you. I want to touch you." He leaned further down as he spoke, and she shivered. "I want you calling my name, either one, I don't care. I want you panting for breath as I slide my fingers inside you." He licked her cheek. "I want to make love to you. Is that so impossible?"

"Yes," she whispered, frightened.

He took her earlobe between his teeth and tugged gently. "Here or on my bed, Weasley?" he asked. He licked the outer shell of her ear, and she shivered.

"Ginny," she whispered desperately.

"Ginny," Draco corrected. "Short for something."

"Ginevra," she gasped as his tongue slid through the whorls of her ear.

"Beautiful," Draco whispered. He pulled back and rose to his feet. "Come with me."

She looked terrified, as terrified as he had seen her in her ancient kitchen. Draco went to his kitchen and got out his wand. He held it out to her so that she could grasp its handle. "What?"

"Tie me up, if you like. Sounds like it might be fun."

Her face darkened. "That's not funny."

"I wasn't joking. If it makes you feel better, tie me down and go at it."

"I can't."

Draco shoved his wand into the waistband of his pants and lifted her to her feet. He propelled her to his bedroom, just past the bathroom. It was a tiny flat, good enough for his paltry needs.

His room was fairly plain, especially when compared to the decayed opulence of the temple's interior. He had a large bed but no headboard or footboard, no posters or curtains around it. There was thick green comforter on top, and the bed was neatly made. He had two low dressers with some possessions scattered on top. Loose change, a pen, a crumpled piece of paper that looked like a bank receipt, the cordless phone and deodorant. All casual details, nothing out of the ordinary or strange. The curtains at the window were drawn, and the light on overhead was a simple Muggle bulb.  
"Oh. Not what I expected."

Draco grasped her face in his hands and kissed her breathless. He worked her blouse loose from her dark jeans, his fingers finding bare skin. He touched her gently, reverently, tracing odd geometric patters. He wanted to laugh when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. She had raced all the way into town to see him, and hadn't worn a thing. Draco pushed her blouse off her shoulders and moved to kiss her jaw, neck and then suckle a breath. Her breath caught, and she grasped his shoulders. "I can't," she whispered.

"Yes, you can," he murmured against her skin as he moved to her other breast.

"I'm a whore," she sobbed, head bowed.

He stood up and grasped her face. "You're beautiful."

"No, I'm not," she replied, obviously believing it.

"I think you are." He kissed the tip of her nose and then her chin. "I want to taste everything."

"You said I'm too thin."

"Mmm... Still beautiful, though," he murmured against her neck. "You can touch me, too, it's all right. I haven't been touched in _ages."_

"No, I can't," she whispered, eyes shut tight.

His mouth closed over her breast again, and she gasped. He rolled her nipple over his tongue, feeling it pebble in desire. Draco's hands traced the curve of her spine, then settled onto her hips. He brought his hands around to the front and then began to unbutton her jeans.

"Stop," she gasped. "Don't."

He moved his hands back up to her sides. He made short work of his own shirt, leaving it tossed aside on the floor beside hers. He put his wand down on the dresser, his mouth never leaving her breast, his tongue never stopping.

"You've got to stop," Ginny whispered desperately. "I can't... I don't... You shouldn't..."

He liked that her thoughts fractured, that her breath came in shallow gasps. He liked the way her hands fluttered at his bare shoulders, unsure of what to do. He liked unsettling her, the way her mouth opened and a faint rise of a blush began in her cheeks. Draco unbuttoned his own pants and let them fall to his ankles. He moved to her waist again, and pulled the zipper down slowly. Draco caught her mouth with his again, tongues tangling. He dragged her jeans down her hips, his fingers hooking into her panties as well. He glanced at them as he moved to worship her full breasts again. Pure white cotton, as if she was still a child and didn't know about the dark underside of the world.

"You can't," she whispered, horrified.

He left her breasts and kissed his way down, pulling her jeans and panties down to her ankles. "Come on, kick these off." She obeyed the command, looking lost and unsure of herself. Draco pressed a kiss to her mons as he knelt in front of her. "It's going to be all right."

"No, it won't," she whispered in return.

He kicked off his boxers and grabbed his wand. He created a mirror on the wall, and then put the wand back down. Draco pulled her to the side of the bed facing the mirror. He stood behind her, hands on her arms. She was ghostly pale and trembling as she took in her reflection. "I can't do this," she whispered, eyes watering.

"Yes, you can." He took one breast in hand and rolled his thumb over the nipple. "You're beautiful. I want to show you."

"This is cruel," she sobbed.

Draco slid his other hand between her thighs, fingertips brushing over the coarse copper curls. "How? Because I want you to see yourself? Because I want you to see what you look like when you come?" He nipped her ear gently, playfully, and met her eyes in to the mirror as his fingers found her wet slit. "It's not cruel."

"They punished me," Ginny whispered, tears falling.

"How?" Draco asked softly, fingers sliding through her silky, damp folds. "Tell me, Gin. Tell me how it hurts."

"Tom said it was dirty. He'd watch me, and make me watch, telling me what a horrible girl I am."

Draco dropped his head to her shoulder, his hands still gently stroking. "Go on."

"Trent..." She made a soft choking noise. "He'd make me watch what he did to me, how he'd mark me."

"He looked like Tom, didn't he?"

She nodded, sniffling. "I thought he would love me," she whispered, eyes closing. She was ashamed when her voice cracked on the word love.

Draco licked the skin of her neck, feeling her pulse beneath his tongue. "Look at me," he commanded, dragging his wet fingertip over her clit. "Ginevra, look at me."

She reluctantly opened her eyes. "I shouldn't," she whispered when their eyes met. "You shouldn't, either, for your own sake. I'm poison. I ruin everything I touch."

"Good thing I'm already ruined, then," Draco replied, stroking her clit. "I'm not fit to be a Malfoy any longer."

Ginny's breath caught and she began rocking her hips against Draco's hand. "I'm a whore. I'll betray you. I'll play you false if you're not careful."

"You could never be a whore," Draco whispered against her skin. She shuddered, and he picked up his pace. "I know you're too good for me."

"No, I'm tainted..." Ginny panted, rocking against him. Her eyes slid shut as a wave of pure pleasure washed over her.

"Watch," Draco commanded. "Watch me fuck you. Watch yourself come in my hands. And then you'll watch me taste you, and you'll know I want you far more than anything." He met her disbelieving eyes in the mirror and he smiled. "I'm going to make you come for me."

She panted, rocking against him, his hand feverishly working at her clit. His other hand kneaded her breast, then moved to splay across her stomach. Draco had his arms wrapped around her, and was licking her neck with a rapt expression. His fingers slid across her swollen clit, rubbing harder and faster as he breaths grew more shallow. He plunged his fingers deeply inside her, quickly thrusting into her tight wet heat. He then rubbed her aching clit, faster and more sure. Ginny couldn't help but watch, breasts heaving with every breath, the scent of her sex in the air around them.

"I need you inside me," she whispered, growing frantic. "I need you to punish me."

He bit her shoulder gently. "Ginevra Weasley, what a mouth you have." He laughed and stroked her clit harder, making her let out an anguished moan she couldn't stifle. "That's it. Let me hear you. Let me know how much you like it. Let me hear how much you want it."

"Gods, Malfoy, please," she sobbed. "Please, fuck me, please, make it cruel."

He kept at his maddening strokes, her entire body trembling. "The way I fuck you could never be cruel," he whispered against her skin.

She came suddenly, with a sharp cry, her entire body stretched taunt in his hands. His strokes slowed, then stopped.

"I'm filthy," she sobbed, looking at him in the mirror. He was the only thing keeping her upright.

Draco sat her down at the edge of his bed. "No." He knelt between her legs, opening them wide. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. "Watch the mirror." He touched his tongue to her slit, wet and slick with her arousal. He tasted her, breathed her in deeply. He licked her slowly, exploring every wet fold. Her hands grasped his head desperately, and he could hear her gasps for breath. He slid a finger inside her as he sucked on her clit, and smiled as she let out a throaty moan. He licked harder, faster, the tip of his tongue darting over her. Her hands jerked, and he could feel her tighten around the finger inside her. He kept at it steadily, dizzy with the taste of her on his tongue.

She came with a keening cry, falling back onto the bed. Her head lolled and struggled for breath. "Oh," she gasped.

Draco got up onto unsteady feet and pulled her to her feet as well. He kissed her, her musky taste on his tongue, and he pulled her down to the bed with him. He turned her so that she could hang her had back over the edge of the bed to look in the mirror.

He plunged into her hot depths with a moan of pleasure, his eyes closing. She felt exquisite, like home. He moved in slow strokes, his own breath unsteady. He opened his eyes to look at her, and found her watching the mirror.

"You feel wonderful," Draco whispered. "Tell me..."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me how you feel... Tell me what it's like," he panted, beginning to move faster.

"Oh... I don't... I can't... describe..."

"Try," he gasped. "Just try."

"It just feels good," she moaned. "You feel so good, you're so deep inside me."

"Yes," Draco moaned, thrusting more deeply. "Tell me."

"You feel," Ginny gasped, "so good... Oh, right there, right there, oh dear Gods, just there."

Draco thrust faster, harder, keeping the same angle. Her words turned into babbling syllables, incoherent thoughts as she arched up to meet his thrusts. Her entire body tightened, her back bent like a bow. Another thrust and she let out a sharp cry as she collapsed onto the ed. Her entire body pulsed around, and it was too much. Grunting with the strain, Draco let go, spilling into her.

He collapsed on top of her, struggling for breath. "Wow." If anything, it was more amazing than the day before.

Ginny made an uncomfortable noise, and Draco led the shimmy backward. He was still inside her and reluctant to leave. They stopped moving when Ginny's head was firmly on the bed. He collapsed on top of her again, trying to breathe.  
When her breath fell to a normal rate, Ginny touched the back of Draco's head. "I have to go."

"Stay," he whispered against her neck. "Stay here with me. Don't go back to that monstrous place. You deserve better."

"It's a safe place. It's my penance."

"You don't need penance for anything."

"I betrayed Trent," she said simply.

"He's not worth it," Draco replied fiercely. "Stay with me."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. He's not making you do anything."

"I still hear him," Ginny whispered, her eyes falling shut. "I hear both of them all the time."

"I'll talk to drown them out," Draco promised. "I won't let you suffer."

"Too late," she whispered.

"It's not too late. Everyone said so to me. It's not too late to change. They don't need to keep hold of you."

She gave a weary sigh. "Stop trying to be the good one."

"Who's trying?" Draco raised himself to his elbows and looked her in the eye. "They aren't worth your love, Ginny. You deserve better."

"I deserved everything I got, Malfoy."

"Draco," he responded. "Or David."

"Neither suit you."

"You've already paid enough."

"I can't ever repay everyone for what I've done. Don't you see that?" Her voice spiraled up into hysteria. "Tom possessed me, he had everything and stained me. He marked me with evil. Trent knew that, he knew I wasn't worth being loved."

Draco kissed her forehead. "Then why not stay with me? I don't love you."

She bit her lip uncertainly. "I can't," she said after a long moment. "I'd ruin you."

"I'm already ruined. I have no family. My life is over and alone."

"You still have some hope. You still have dreams."

"So do you, or else you'd be dead right now."

She fell silent for a long moment. "I'll betray you. It's what I do."

"I've nothing left to betray. Tell them what name I was born with. I don't care. It doesn't matter."

Her eyes welled up with tears and she turned away from him. "Why are you being so nice to me? I don't deserve it. I'm an awful creature."

"Maybe, but you feel like heaven when I'm inside you." Draco kissed her forehead again. "Go to sleep, Ginny. Maybe we'll have another go when you wake up."

There was something akin to relief in her eyes. "I can fix that, if you want me again."

Draco sighed. "I'm actually tired. Rest now, fuck later."

She nodded as he readjusted himself, pulling out of her. He settled on top of her, her heartbeat steady beneath his ear. Her arms circled him, almost as if she was afraid of displaying affection.

Draco yawned. "G'night, Ginny. Pancakes in the morning, all right?"

"I can make those."

"Me, too."

He slept, nestled comfortably in her arms.

But when he woke, she was gone. He was alone again.

***  
***


	4. Explanations

_Holding it together  
birds of a feather  
nothing but lies  
and crooked wings  
I have the answer  
spreading the cancer  
you are the faith inside me_  
Breaking Benjamins, "Evil Angel"

Draco called Clive and begged off work. "I don't feel too well right now."

"Is your friend okay? The redheaded girl?"

"I don't know," Draco muttered. "I should go find out."

"Do that. Come in tomorrow. I dare say, I still know how to run my own shop."

Smiling, Draco hung up the phone. His smile faded when he saw the conjured mirror on his bedroom wall. None of it had been a dream. He had to find her.

He threw on clothes and his hiking boots. He went straight to the temple. It was her usual way to hide, and it was all she knew.

He found her in the ancient kitchen, setting out a bowl of cereal. She looked up as he barged in, startled at the sight of him.

"You left me!" he thundered. "You woke up and you _left me._ You were gone!"

"I shouldn't have been there," she said softly, not meeting his eyes. "I should never have gone to find you."

"But you did," Draco snapped, taking jerky steps about the kitchen. He felt as if he was stalking her, as if he had turned her into a caged thing to observe. This was unlike him; he had always been cool and collected. "You did, and you came with me to my flat and we had sex. What did you think was going to happen?"

"I only wanted you to know I was still alive."

"Congratulations," Draco spat. "I know. I want you in my bed now."

She shrank back into her chair. "I can't."

"The fuck you can't!" he exploded. He leaned over her, one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the table. He had both in a white-knuckled grip. Draco had no idea what he was doing or what he was saying. "I had you panting, Ginny. I had you writhing beneath me. Merlin, the way you taste! I can't let that go."

"You have to," she told him simply.

"No!"

They stared at each other, at an impasse.

"I don't want you afraid of me," Draco murmured finally.

"That's the problem. I can't handle anything else."

They stared at each other, and finally Draco pulled out the chair next to her. "Tell me."

"I don't know how..."

"Try. Just try."

"I can't stand kindness," she blurted after an agonizing moment. "I can't _talk."_

"You're doing just fine," Draco replied, voice droll.

Ginny shot him an exasperated look. "You know what I mean," she said, blowing out a breath.

"No, I don't. That's the point."

She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I carry my ghosts with me."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "So?"

"You're too normal!" Ginny said suddenly, exasperated. "I can't deal with that!"

Draco grabbed her by the front of her shirt and dragged her out of her chair, knocking it over. He dragged her to the wall and shoved her up against it. "Why? Because I don't hit you? Because I don't make you cry out in pain?" He dropped his right hand to her jeans and undid the buttons. When she tried to push him away, fear in her eyes, he grasped her hand in his left and held it up over her head. He traced the folds of her sex with his fingers. "Do you honestly think that I need to break you?"

"Yes," she whispered, frightened.

"But why? He did for me already," Draco murmured. He pressed himself tightly against her, and he could almost feel her heart jackhammering in her chest. "There's nothing left for me to do but clean up the mess he made with you."

She gasped in outrage. "You stop it!"

"No," Draco hissed, pushing a finger up inside of her. She growing damp. "I don't have to hurt you to make you beg for it. I don't have to break you to make myself feel strong. I don't have to hit you to feel like a man." Draco licked her cheek, and she gave a delicious moan. "Do you think I'm weak, Ginny?"

"No," she whispered, that edge of fear in her voice.

"I'm not weak just because I don't hurt you." Draco nipped her earlobe, and she made a startled sound. "I make you _feel_ me. I make you moan for me, I make you come. I don't have to push you down. I don't have to hurt you, and that doesn't make me weak. Trent was _scared_ of you, that's why he hurt you. He didn't understand, so he broke you to pieces. Isn't that how it happened, Ginny?"

"Please don't do this," she begged, even as she arched up into his touch. "Don't."

"He didn't understand, and he was afraid of what he couldn't understand. So he broke you, used you. He made you small and weak because he was afraid." Draco pushed his fingers deep inside of her, making her cry out. She shut her eyes, feeling the pleasure pulse within her. "I'm not afraid of you, Ginny. I know everything. Oh, maybe I don't know all of the details, but they don't really matter. I know the darkness in you. I know you're empty inside. I know you hate yourself. I just don't care."

"Stop," she pleaded. "Don't say anymore."

"I already live in a dark place. I don't let it control me the way you do. I'm stronger than that. I'm no coward like Trent is. I can make you come. I can give you pleasure. I can feed you. I don't need to make you hurt. I _want_ you to moan for me. I want you to know it's me that's making you come." He licked away her tears. He stared at her, expression fierce, fingers unrelenting. "I know what I want. Do you?"

"No," she whispered. "I never did."

"I want you in my bed," Draco said, voice fierce. "I want it, all of it. I'm the best you've ever had, isn't that true? Better than that coward, better than your own hand. I _know_ you."

Some part of him hated what he was doing. Another didn't care. This was what she wanted. She couldn't allow herself happiness. She couldn't allow tenderness or real love. Some part of her must have always known what Trent was like.

"I don't need to pass you around," Draco whispered, fingers curling inside of her. She whimpered, pressing herself closer to his hand. "I don't need to degrade you to be strong. I don't need to break you to be a man. I don't need to hurt you to own you."

Ginny let out a wordless moan, her body tightening. Apparently, dirty talk turned her on. Draco wondered if he should thank Pansy; she had always liked dirty talk. Remembering Pansy brought Draco a fresh pang of regret.

He set a punishing pace for Ginny. "This is me," Draco hissed into her ear. "I'm letting you come because I want you to. Come for me. _Now."_

He hadn't really thought she would come on command, but she did. She was a broken thing, a marionette with strings of pain. What whatever else that happened to her before, he still wanted her now.

Draco dragged her off to her bedroom. He didn't know the way from the kitchen, and dragged her to the parlor. From there he found her bedroom. If anything, it was more natural. He didn't have to explain that she had been acting out her dreams, that he had fucked her then. He didn't have to explain a damn thing.

"Take your clothes off," he growled, nerves afire. Tears falling, she stripped quickly. Draco kicked off his clothes. "Get on the bed."

"How do you want me?" she asked in a tiny voice. Her face was a mask of anguish and uncertainty, and it tore at him.

"I don't bloody care! It's not like it's only going to be once!" he snapped impatiently.

She got onto all fours on the bed, sniffling.

Draco turned her onto her back when he joined her on the bed. "Oh, no. No easy way out for you. You're going to watch me fuck you. You're going to _know_ it's me."

There were tears in her eyes when she looked at him. "You don't understand. I'm dirty. I'm a filthy whore."

"You silly bint," Draco hissed as he plunged inside of her. "I'm not sharing you. You're _mine._ You won't go whoring around on me, and you're not going to fuck my mates on my say-so." He could see the relief, the awful relief, in her expression. "I don't believe in sharing. If you're mine, you're _mine."_

An awful expression came over her face. "You can't... I can't... You've got to stop!"

"No."

She broke out into fresh sobs and tried to peel his fingers from her hips. "You didn't... I might..."

"Spit it out, Ginny!" Draco growled, not hiding his frustration with her.

"If I get pregnant, I couldn't do it again," she sobbed, letting go of his hands. "Don't make me, please. I know I'd make a horrid mother, but I can't do that again."

Draco came down to his elbows. "He made you do what?"

She made awful gulping sounds. "There was ritual, after. He'd tie me down every month, put his wand in so he couldn't miss." She turned away from him and covered her face with her hand, everything in her ashamed.

Draco kept thrusting into her. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, she turned back to him.

"I. Don't. Care," he said, thrusting harder with every word.

"But!"

"I. Don't. Care. I don't care. It'll be mine, won't it? Because you wouldn't betray me, would you?"

"No," she gasped, horrified. She arched into him. "But I'm awful. You can't want me..."

"Shut up."

Her jaws snapped shut with an audible click, and Draco thrust harder, faster, gasping with every breath. He was close, close, and with her beginning to writhe, it was almost too good. He wouldn't last much longer.

Draco came with a cry. He knew she was close, and thrust a few times more. He hissed when he felt her orgasm, the grasping inner muscles clamping down. But he pushed her down into the pillows when she tried to move away from him.

"I'll destroy you," she whispered brokenly. "I'll betray you."

"I'm a _Slytherin,"_ Draco snapped. "Of course you won't. I'm better at it than you. I don't feel fucking guilty." A lie, but she didn't have to know that.

She sobbed in relief. "You have to stop me. You have to keep me away, or else I'll ruin them all."

"Spit it out, woman. What now?"

"I'm dangerous, Draco. You shouldn't want me."  
"How are you dangerous, Ginny?" Draco asked, voice lazy and soft. "Do tell me. Explain the lies they told you."

She looked at him, frightened. "I'm a liar. I'm faithless. I lack discipline. I'm _broken!_ I'm fucking useless!"

Draco managed not to fake a yawn in front of her distress. "So what? Silly Gryffindor. I _expect_ it of you."

"Wh-what?"

"You lied to your parents about Tom, about Trent." Draco could see the guilt shimmering in her eyes. "You let them think you were innocent. They _wanted_ you to be fine, so you let them think it. You have nothing inside you, so you yell and scream to cover it up. I _know,_ Ginny. And I'm telling you I don't care."

There were tears in her eyes, and it looked like relief.

"I told you yesterday that I don't care. Save your pathetic Gryffindor self sacrifice. You're not poison, you're not tainted, you're not the source of all ruin." Draco rose up, kneeling over her. "You're no angel, and you're not pure. But it doesn't make you evil. You're gray, endless shades of gray."

She sniffled, shaking her head. "You don't understand..."

Draco glared at her. "Don't give me that shite. Don't even try it. Where's your wand?" he asked, intending to clean her up.

She began to cry again. "I don't have one."

"What?" Draco's brows knitted together. "Explain that."

"He made me get rid of it..."

"Say it. He made you kill your child."

Her wail was gut-wrenching. "He had me use my wand to kill her. I know it would've been a girl, I just know it!"

The pain in her voice was choking, and Draco touched her cheek gently. "What did the bastard do next?"

She sobbed and grabbed his hand desperately. "He broke it. He made me kill our daughter and then he broke it."

"And then after that, he'd tie you down," Draco prompted.

She nodded. "He'd shove his wand in. He couldn't miss..."

"He fucked you with the wand. He made you feel it, made you want it," Draco guessed. She looked away guiltily, confirming his horrid suspicions. It was just something else to string up the bastard for. His voice dropped and he touched her cheek gently, almost a caress. "We'll get you a new one."

She looked horrified. "Oh, no... I mustn't. I shouldn't."

"I want you doing magic. I want you eating and sleeping and doing ordinary things. I want you smiling at me and not spouting awful shite."

"You shouldn't touch me," Ginny whispered.

"Shut it. I'll touch you if I want to. I'll be gentle if I want to. I'll say sorry if I want to."

"And what if... You can't want it," she gasped painfully.

"I told you," Draco hissed, annoyed. "I don't care. I don't care if you have a full dozen babies. They'd be _mine,_ dammit. If it happens, it happens."

"You wouldn't kill them?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"What kind of monster do you take me for? I'm not him. Get it through your thick skull, Ginny. I'm not that bastard Trent. I'm not afraid of you. I don't think you're poison and I want you in my bed at night. Got it?"

"But what if I am?" she asked, voice tremulous.

"I'll deal with it when it happens." He pulled her up to a sitting position. "I'm _Slytherin._ I'll know how to deal with it."

"Why?" she asked, eyes wide and confused. "Why would you do this?"

"You're great in bed," Draco replied brightly. "Why not? It's been six years of nothing for me."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're making me your whore."

"You're the only one calling you that, you know." Draco shrugged. "Think it if you like, but I don't see it that way."

"How, then? What else do you get out of it?"

"There has to be something else? Oh, all right. My life was utterly boring." Draco rolled his eyes at her, shaking his head. "Happy now? Dear Merlin, I've never met anyone so picky about how they got their pain."

She was silent for a long moment. "I can't be normal."

Draco snorted. "Who said that's what I wanted? Just shut up about it already. The more you try this silly sacrificing thing, the more I want you out of here. This place is just spiteful for no good reason. I wouldn't be surprised if somebody died here."

"I shouldn't leave," Ginny murmured. "Luna wouldn't like it."

"Does she meet you here?"

"Well, no. But this is the safe house."

"Trust me, my place is safer. It's been warded seven times over. There's practically nothing warding this place, did you know that? Any dark spell could get to you here. And you, being wandless! You're just waiting to be a martyr, aren't you?" Draco snorted and shook his head. "No wonder everyone thought you were perfect for the boy wonder."

"Don't you dare speak ill of him!" she cried, smacking his arm. "He gave up his life and saved us all from Voldemort."

Draco caught her hand. "My, what a violent reaction. I'd take it personally if I didn't know you're feeling guilty."

She was pale as paper. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You wish he'd had you first." Draco's voice was low and sinuous, with that edge of danger that sent a _frisson_ down Ginny's spine. She had always been attracted to danger. "Or you wish that he had never saved you from Tom, isn't that right? You've resented him for being too damn late and too damn blind not to have seen. You hated him for being oblivious, for not noticing you, for not loving you. Am I right?"

She reacted as he expected, screaming and hitting him about the face and chest. It didn't actually hurt; her blows were too diffuse and angry to actually do damage. If she hadn't already been too fragile, she would have been a force to be reckoned with.

Draco pulled her close, tight against him. He could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. It thumped through her ribs; he could feel every pounding beat. Draco cradled her close as she began to sob. "It's all right to hate the ones you love. It's all right. Sometimes they're awful people. Sometimes they're stupid. It happens all the time. It's as natural as breathing. Go on, hate them for not seeing. Hate them for not knowing. Hate them for believing. It's all right, I hate them, too."

"I can't," she sobbed on his shoulder. She clutched at him almost desperately. "I can't, I can't. I _love_ them, they didn't mean it. They didn't know, they couldn't. Mum was so far away, she couldn't know it..."

"But she should have. You _feel_ it. She should have known when your letters didn't sound the same. Your idiot brothers should have seen. You know they should have, but they were too selfish to notice. They were too busy to see you, too busy to care."

She struggled against him. "No! It's not like that!"

"It's not? It's not how you feel? That's not why you make up excuses about them?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't.

"It's all right, Ginny. You can hate them for it. It doesn't change the fact that they're family, that you love them and want to protect them. Nothing changes that."

She sniffled, clutching him tightly. She had no answer.

"Go on, hate me if you like. I can take it." Draco stroked her back in even strokes, just as his mother had once done for him after a nightmare when he was a small child. Somehow, he suspected that no one had done something like this for Ginny in a long time. "I don't care. Hate me for not knowing what my father was like. Hate me for taking the pain away. Hate me for knowing what they did to you. Hate me for making you _feel_ everything. Hate me for making you come."

"I don't hate you," she whispered against his skin. "I'd have to care about you first."

Ouch. That was a blow to his ego. "All right, then. It's a start."

"I don't hate you. I don't hate anyone, not even Tom or Trent. They did what they did because they could, because I let them."

"You hate yourself."

"I can't help it if I'm worthless," she whispered, voice bleak and empty. Draco wished he could go back in time and rip that damned diary to shreds. "It's nobody's fault. It's just the way it is. There's always someone awful in the family, and it's me."

Draco found himself rocking her. "You're an awful liar."

She sobbed, fingers pressing into his skin. "I can't hate them, Draco, I can't. I still love Tom. I still love Trent, no matter what awful things he did to me."

"And you always will," he murmured, cradling the back of her skull. "Some part of you will always belong to them."

She pulled back to look at him in wonder. "Yes."

"That's all right, Ginny. Now part of you will always belong to me," he said with a soft smile. "I like that."

"Why do you think so?" she asked cautiously.

"Because I know, and I don't care. Because I can talk to you about it. Because you don't love me and I understand it. Because I expect it."

"I'll hurt you," she whispered. "I always do."

He looked at her sadly. "It's all right. They always do. I expect it."

***  
***


	5. Discovery

_You my friend  
You're a not like them  
But I caught your lie  
And you know I did  
Now I'm lost in you  
Like I always do  
And I'd die to win  
'Cause I'm born to lose_  
Breaking Benjamin, "Firefly"

 

While Ginny unpacked her belongings at his flat, Draco Apparated to St. Mungo's.

There was a single nurse at the station. "Can I help you?"

Draco smiled pleasantly at the brunette, hopefully giving himself an air of dimness. "I hope so. I would like to visit my cousin, Pansy Parkinson."

The nurse's smile slipped. "Oh?"

Draco nodded. "Our families weren't exactly close after they found out I'm a Squib. I found out yesterday from a friend of a friend. He was laughing about the war, but we've been out of the loop for a while. Anyway, she was nice to me once, when we were kids."

As he guessed she would, the nurse relented. "That's just awful. I'll to log you in..."

"David Marsh," he supplied helpfully. "Is it bad, do you know? All I heard is that she's here."

The nurse clucked her tongue sympathetically. "I'll take you to her. It's easy to get lost around here if you don't know the way."

Pansy was in the Malicious Curse ward, which Draco found strange, given Ginny's story. But maybe she hadn't known the real story. Perceptions were easily warped by the lens of experience.

"Pansy?" he asked, seeing the dark-haired girl sitting by the window. "Pansy, is that you?"

She turned to him slowly, eyes hollow shells of what they used to be. "Draco?"

He glanced at the nurse, who was frowning. Draco quickly stepped forward. "Pans? It's David."

"Draco," Pansy repeated firmly. Her face was one of confusion, and her eyes flicked from Draco to the nurse.

"Perhaps this isn't such a good idea..." the nurse began.

Draco sat beside Pansy on the window seat. "Pansy, it's me. It's David. I'm your cousin, remember?" He tried to make himself sound desperate.

She shook her head, knotted hair flying. "You're Draco."

Draco gave a long suffering sigh. "All right, Pans. Whatever you say. I'm Draco."

Her lower lip trembled slightly. "Is it really?" she asked in a small voice, reaching out to touch his face.

He smiled at her. "Of course. I changed my name and ran away from it all."

"You're not dead?" Pansy asked, brown eyes filling with tears of relief.

"I hope not," Draco responded dryly. "I couldn't visit you here if I was."

She launched herself at him, clutching at him desperately. Draco looked at the nurse helplessly as he returned Pansy's frantic hugs. The nurse looked touched, and Draco mouthed "Thank you" at her. She flushed at the apparent gratitude and nodded. She indicated the bell pull at the door, and then left.

"They said you were dead," Pansy whispered when the nurse left.

"They said you were crazy."

Pansy pulled back, laughing. "Yes, well, it beats the alternative."

The smile on Draco's face died. "What happened, Pans? I left so long ago. I hid, or else they'd kill me. But what happened?"

"War," she said simply, sadly. "When they said you'd died, that your parents were dead... It was clear, then. I figured it was only a matter of time before they killed the rest of us." She slowly rolled up the sleeve of her sweater, which was riddled with holes. Draco stared at the Dark Mark, a symbol he had once wished to have etched into his own skin. Hers was faded and gray, looking like a bruise. "I did it for you," she said with a laugh. "I wouldn't have done it otherwise."

Draco traced the Dark Mark. "I'd've thought it would disappear once the Dark Lord died."

"Well, sure, it did. But it goes to the bone. That's my bones all burned by it. My skin's so thin you can see it."

Draco cupped her face in his hands. "When did this happen? Why'd you end up _here_ of all places?"

"They took Park Place," she said simply. She gave a small shrug, as if it didn't matter, but Draco knew better. It mattered very much, and still burned. His hands fell from her face.

"So you pretended to be crazy?"

"They let Mum die, even when they promised to keep her safe," Pansy said slowly, painfully. "And when I said something, I got punished for it. That's when I knew it wasn't worth it."

Her voice was hollow, devoid of all feeling. It wasn't the Pansy he had known six years ago. "I heard you were raped."

She shrugged negligently, but Draco could see that she was bothered by it. "If that was all, it wouldn't be so bad."

"I won't make you relive it," Draco murmured softly. "I'm sorry, Pansy. I should have been here."

She looked at him with a bitter smile. "And see your Mum die? I don't think so." She touched his cheek gently. "It's sweet of you to say so, though." She kissed the tip of his nose, a move that always used to annoy him. Now, it merely made him feel sad. "I'll be all right. I've been through worse. You don't have to feel bad."

"They think you're crazy."

"They also think I can't hear them whispering," she added in a tight, angry voice. "They talk about me, calling me the Death Eater whore. I didn't do a damn thing I didn't want to do," she said with anger in her voice.

Draco snorted. "Well, of course not. I'm not stupid."

Pansy grinned at him, a genuine and open smile. "I see that. My cousin, eh? What story did you tell that stupid cow?"

Draco returned her grin. "The sad tale of David Marsh, your poor squib cousin."

"No! You didn't!" Pansy laughed. "Oh! It's so awful, it's so perfect. No wonder that silly trollop made eyes at you!"

Draco pretended to be affronted. "I thought it was my natural charm and brilliance."

Pansy let out an unladylike sort. "Of course, Draco. Whatever you say." She grasped his hand tightly. "How have you been, Draco? You look well."

"Mum and I were hidden. Snape did right by us," Draco said, squeezing her hand. "So I've been in Wales, some town not on any map. Magic is open there."

"They're all Wizards?"

"Not even close. Muggle, squib, magical... They all live in the same town. Muggles there have always believe, always known. I work at the apothecary."

"How deliciously common," Pansy snickered.

Draco thought of his flat, the windswept hills. "It is. It's different. I like it there. It's peaceful, and I don't have to live up to anyone's expectations."

Pansy smiled at the wistful tone in his voice. "It might not have been so bad."

"Maybe. We'll never know now."

"I guess not, Draco," she murmured.

"You can come back with me," Draco said impulsively. She raised an eyebrow. "Would the town be ready for your crazy cousin?"

"Why not? They took in poor, orphaned David Marsh."

She shook her head. "I don't have to do anything here but forget to bathe or comb my hair. I drift off and don't talk to them. I scream and yell and make cryptic comments. I annoy staff. Why would I want to give all that up?" she asked sarcastically.

"I'll introduce you to my best mate, Adrian. He hasn't got a girlfriend."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, right. Some Wizard friend–"

"He's Muggle," Draco interrupted brusquely.

She cut herself off. "I wouldn't know the first thing about Muggles. I've ben here for four years. More than that, probably. Time doesn't have meaning here."

"You've got to want more than that," Draco pleaded.

She shrugged and gave a fatalistic shrug. "Doesn't mean I'll get it. It's no good to want anything anymore, anyway."

Her voice was so hopeless and dead. Draco couldn't stand it; he'd heard it enough from Ginny Weasley. "Come with me," he insisted. "We'll figure something out."

"I haven't anywhere to live."

"There's a safe house just outside of town. It looks like an old deserted temple. We'll just fix up the interior."

Pansy's eyebrows lifted. "Have you thought about this long?"

"Just now," Draco admitted.

"So how'd you know about the house?"

Draco took a breath. She would find out if she did go with him anyway. "I just moved Ginny Weasley out of it and into my flat. Well, she'd better still be there when I get back."

Pansy's eyes had gone wide. "A _Weasley?"_

"Some problems, I gathered. They packed her off to keep her safe, some rot like that."

Pansy blinked. "Draco, she _killed_ the asshole that she had been living with. It was all over the Prophet. Merlin only knows what happened, but Trent Davies is dead, she disappeared, and whatever's left of her family is up in arms about it."

Draco blinked. "Well, now. That's something to discuss."

Her bitter laughter didn't help matters. "I would hope so. I've only just found out you're alive. I'd hate for your latest paramour to kill you, too."

_I'm poison,_ Ginny had said. She had never mentioned killing the bastard, and she thought he was still alive. She was still terrified of him.

Luna Lovegood had to know the bastard was dead, but she had told Ginny that they were looking for him. Lovegood _knew._

"Uh oh. Someone's about to get into trouble," Pansy sing-songed. "I recognize that look."

"Oh, yes. But not Ginny. She didn't do it. I think I know who did." He took in the fevered curiosity in Pansy's expression. "I'd like you to reconsider coming with me."

"I'd cramp your style," Pansy replied, voice droll.

"I don't like the idea of leaving you here."

Pansy shrugged. "You don't have to like it. I'm here, that's all."

"Wouldn't you rather be _here_ somewhere else?" he asked, frustrated.

"Sweetie, we don't always get what we want. You can't save everyone. Go on. Save Weasley from the poisoned hell she's in. I'll stay in mine."

"You don't have to."

"I know. I chose this. It beats the alternative."

"Which is?"

"We're the last of our year, of anyone we'd known. The rest of them are dead. If I had to deal with that..." Her voice trailed off and she looked away.

"The war never touched Wales," Draco murmured.

Pansy looked impressed. "Oh."

"Just think on it, all right? I'll come back now that I know you're alive." He grasped her in a tight hug, almost desperately.

"I'd been afraid to hope," Pansy whispered. "They're not at all kind to people like us here."

"Let them keep the hell they created. We don't have to live in it if we don't want to. There's options. There's always options."

She gave him a sad smile. "D'you really think your friend might like me?"

"Well, of course. I do."

"Your taste is horrible, sweetie, always had been."

They laughed together, and it died slowly.

"I wondered what it would be like if you were still alive."

"We'd have had pretty children," Draco replied. "Your hair, my eyes and nose. All of our families' money... It might have been nice."

"Maybe. Now your children will have awful freckles." Draco started, and Pansy snickered. "Oh, come on, now. You only get chivalrous over family and close friends. You wouldn't save Weasley unless she meant something."

Draco frowned. "I haven't figured out that part yet."

"Planning babies?" Pansy teased.

"Planning to fuck her into submission," Draco replied honestly. "She's got a Slytherin side."

Pansy looked interested. "Really? She's no goody-goody?"

Draco shook his head. "Not really."

She looked thoughtful. "Oh. All right, that might not be so bad, then," Pansy said slowly. "It would've been awful if she was sweetness and light. You couldn't stand that. But if she's got edges, she might be interesting enough for you," she concluded.

"Good to know I've got your approval," Draco replied dryly. Pansy merely grinned openly at him.

"I should see her for myself, I suppose." She laughed at Draco's mulish expression. "The least family can do, eh?"

"Maybe."

"Is your friend cute?"

"Cuter than Blaise ever thought he was."

Pansy clapped her hands delightedly. "Oh, I should shower and shave and comb my hair."

"And lose your delightfully crazy cover?"

"Oh, poo. Isn't my wonderful cousin going to take me home with him?" she said, batting her eyelashes playfully.

"Eventually. I have to go visit Lovegood first."

"That nutters girl? Good luck. She's got that other Weasley boy wrapped around her finger."

"What? Ron? Didn't he date the Mudblood?"

"Oh, them? No, they're dead. Sometime around the last battle. I was too busy being crazy by then," she added blithely, cutting off Draco's question. "No, the dragons expert, Charlie. He was all over the Prophet when they got married. Loony Lovegood and him, can you believe it? And she has some Ministry job. I don't think she's an Auror, somehow. But they work for the Ministry now, and they're the golden couple."

Draco blinked in disappointment. Then he remembered that Lovegood promised to visit Ginny again in a month. It was almost a month now...

"Ooh. You've got a plan hatching. Can I share?"

"Not just yet. First things first, we're getting you out of here and settled in Wales."

"Sounds good to me."

"I'll deal with Lovegood when she comes to visit Ginny this month. She's got lots of explaining to do."

Pansy's smile was sly. "When do we start?"

He looked at her grimly. "As soon as the ink on your transfer papers dries."

***  
***


	6. Together

_Wish I could prove I love you  
But does that mean I have to walk on water?  
When we are older you'll understand  
It's enough when I say so  
And maybe some things are that simple_  
Utada Hikaru, "Simple and Clean"

 

Draco had warned Pansy about the temple's interior. He was shocked as they entered the kitchen. The ancient appliances were gone. Everything was new and shiny, with sleek edges. "Oh, dear," Pansy murmured. "It's lovely, but I don't know how to cook."

"There's probably cook books in here to learn from. Or maybe I can visit and teach you."

Pansy goggled at him. "You? Cook? Since when?"

He looked around the room almost uncomfortably. "Adrian's Mum thought I should know, so I'd live on more than takeaway all the time." He began rummaging through cupboards, which were amazingly full. "You're all stocked up. And here are the books."

"Do you honestly think I can cook?" Pansy asked, snorting.

"Well, you can learn. What else have you got to do?"

She considered him thoughtfully. "Good point, that."

The rest of the interior was updated as well. Draco was sure that the floor plan was different, too. There were more exits from the kitchen. One led down a hallway to the bedrooms and bathroom. The living room was open and spacious, with tall Grecian columns separating the dining room from the living room. It was better than the walls everywhere that had the old, faded wallpaper. The walls had cream-colored paint, calming landscapes and open windows. The rooms were bright and uncluttered. Draco looked around, amazed. "This is _not_ what it looked like just this morning."

Pansy looked out of the window. "That's not the view outside. I think it's spelled to be what's comfortable for whoever lives here. This is exactly how I'd have made a flat look." Her voice was soft. "Remember Mum's paintings?"

Draco smiled. "She should have had a gallery showing."

Pansy looked around. "Now what?"

"Well, I haven't rung Adrian in a while. I should do that, see when he's back."

"You'll have to come up with a good excuse for me and Weasley."

"I'll think of something."

"There's always the truth," Pansy replied in a soft voice. Draco looked at her in shock. "I'm tired of lying," she said simply. "I'm just tired of everything. Isn't it sad? I've no idea what to do with myself anymore."

"I didn't either. I fell into this. I'd tell you to work at the shop, but you're hopeless at potions."

"I wouldn't want to be a shop girl, either."

"We'll think of something, Pans."

She smiled at him warmly. "Better than old times, Draco."

He smiled at her wryly. "We just had to grow up to really appreciate each other, I suppose. Or you're not nearly as annoying as you were six years ago."

"Or you're not a selfish git," Pansy supplied helpfully.

"I'll be back later."

She waved him off. "Oh, go shag Weasley senseless, you. I don't want to see you for days yet."

Draco was still smiling when he let himself into his flat. He found Ginny on his couch, feet curled up under her as she faced the open window. "Ginny?"

"It's so bright," she said softly.

"Well, I didn't need to live in a dungeon any longer."

She turned to him, eyes hopeless. "Why did you take me from mine? I deserved to be there."

_I'm poison,_ she had said, sure of it. Draco didn't believe it.

"Tell me how you met Trent," Draco said, moving to his kitchen. "Did he sweep you off your feet with a pack of lies?"

She flinched and looked down. "I don't like to talk about it."

"You must have, once. Who was your best friend, then?"

"Luna," Ginny whispered. "She's always been there for me. She's been like a sister."

"Have you told her what he did to you?"

She looked up, horrified. "Of course not! I never could."

"Could she _guess?"_ Draco asked, juice in hand. It was almost surprising how the old skills of deflection, misperception and evasion were easy to pick back up. The years melted away, and he was sixteen again.

"I... I don't think so. I lie convincingly."

Draco snorted, then finished his glass of juice. "Not to me."

"Well, you're the expert at it!" Ginny snapped.

His smile was soft and sinuous, and she had visible chills. "My dear, I'm an expert at many things. Care to try me?"

"No," she whispered, looking down. "You can't want me. It's not safe. Everyone I love dies."

"Well, I'm safe, then. You don't love me."

"I loved them, then hated them. What if this works in reverse?"

He snorted. "I'll take my chances, Ginny."

"Why?"

Draco shrugged. "Why not?"

"I _told_ you..."

"You told me what they told you." Draco put down his glass and stalked toward her. "They told you that you were dirt, poison, no better than filth. They made you believe you were worthless, horrible, completely irredeemable. You believed it, even if you didn't think it was true..."

"It is," she whispered.

"...and they told you that they're the only ones who could love you, the only ones to understand. They'd _correct_ you, isn't that it? Give you discipline, give you structure and order, make you something worthwhile." Draco knelt on the couch and caught her hands. "Such shite, Ginny. You have such a regal name, a beautiful name. Your parents had such high hopes for you. They wanted the best for you. Not _of_ you, _for_ you. It's how all parents are."

"They'd be so ashamed of me," Ginny whispered. "The awful things I've done, if they even _knew_ about it..."

"But they don't, do they? Who's still left alive?"

Her face was pale. "Charlie, Percy and Bill. Everyone else..."

"They're the older ones, yeah? The ones I didn't see at school?"

"Percy was the Prefect and then the Head Boy my first year."

"Ah, yes. That one. That's right."

She looked away from him, her eyes falling to their linked hands. "Why, Draco? Why are you trying so hard?"

He sat down beside her. "Think of it as a hobby."

"A _hobby?"_ she choked.

He pushed her back so that he was lying on top of her. He pulled her legs out from under her, hoping she would be comfortable. "You've got to be comfortable with me, Ginny."

"Let me up," she whispered, eyes wide.

He kissed the tip of her nose. "If you are," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, "then we can skip the worthlessness chats. I don't particularly care for them. I want you here, if I want _you,_ then leave me my sick delusions."

"I can't... I don't want anyone else hurt because of me."

"Oh? Is it that you've killed the bastard?"

"No! He's my–" She cut herself off abruptly. "It doesn't matter what he wanted me to call him," she finished lamely.

"What? Master? Just say the damn word, Ginny. Who cares?"

"I do," she whispered, looking ashamed.

"You care what I think of you? I'm touched."

"Don't make fun!" she hissed fiercely.

Draco placed a hand over her breast. "Trust me, that's not what I want to make."  
"I don't understand..."

"You're fantastic, Ginny," he whispered, leaning down to nibble on her ear. His thumb traced circles around her nipple. "I like how you feel. I like how you moan. I like the way you move. I like making you come. Don't look for more than that."

She shivered beneath his touch. "But this is meaningless."

"Does everything have to have meaning?" When she nodded slowly, Draco kissed her jaw. "No offense, Gin, but you know where meaning got you so far. Why not try a life without meaning for a while? Can't hurt."

"But then what would I do?"

"Live here. Get a job, if you want. It doesn't matter."

"Will I give you all my wages?" she asked seriously.

"Can't we figure it out when you actually get a job? What if you don't? What if you'd rather stay here all day?" Draco pressed his lips to her pulse. "No need to rush things."

"You have to want something from me. You don't love me."

Annoyed, Draco pressed a hand to her sex. "I _do_ want something from you, Ginny. Make no mistake about that."

"This is no fairy tale. This won't change anything."

"I'm practical. This means I've got a girl in my bed. End of story. It's how the happily ever afters really end."

Her eyes watered. "He told me they all end in death."

"Tom," Draco guessed. She nodded slowly. "Sounds like something the Dark Lord might say."

"You can't say his name," she observed.

"Sorry. He wanted to kill me and my family. Can't say he deserves to have one." He rubbed her nipple gently. "He made you think touching yourself was dirty. How can you still call him by name? He's a shifty bastard."

"He'll always be Tom. I'll always hear his voice. We were linked for so long. We shared thoughts. We were one."

"You think maybe that's why Trent went 'round the bend?"  
She shook her head. "He wanted to resurrect a demon," she said softly. "He wanted more power over me."

"Over you?" Draco nipped her ear gently. "That's why I think he was afraid of you. He never understood you, did he? Not how it counts, not how it matters."

"He knew everything about me," Ginny whispered, arching up into Draco's touch.

"Even about Tom? Even about the Chamber?"

"N-no. I couldn't. I... _Oh!"_ she cried as Draco pushed her shirt up and nipped her nipple with his teeth through her bra.

"Huh. I'll bet he knew that he didn't know everything. I'll bet he realized there's a part of you he could never touch. So he hurt you however he could just to get back at you." Draco licked the skin beneath her bra. "Did he let you go to any funerals?" He watched as she shook her head, biting her lip. "And he broke your wand so you couldn't get away." Draco ran his tongue along her skin again, his hands moving to unbutton her jeans. "Hardly and example of shining manhood. He couldn't be a Gryffindor."

"Ravenclaw," Ginny murmured. "Proud of it, really."

"Ah." He pulled her jeans down from her hips, dragging her panties along with them. Ginny was fairly docile, letting him strip her lower half bare. She let him prop her right leg up as her left came off of the couch. Draco blew over the copper curls. "He wasn't that smart. He couldn't appreciate you properly."

She shivered when he touched his tongue to her folds. "Draco," she whispered, spreading her legs wider for him.

He slid a finger inside of her. "Yes?"

"I didn't have any nightmares last night. Why is that?"

Draco moved his finger slowly over her clit, making her gasp. "Maybe because I know. Because I made you tell me. It's in the open now, nothing your dreams have to shame you for."

"They said they loved me," she whispered, tears falling. "But they were so awful to me."

"You thought it was all you deserved," Draco murmured. He bent his head down and licked her clit. "You still do."

"What if it is?" she asked in a small voice.

"What if it isn't?" Draco countered. He sucked on her clit, gentle pressure. He heard her cry of pleasure and could feel her thigh tremble. He slid a finger inside her wet slit and moved in a steady rhythm. He could hear her gasps and moans. Her hips began to buck against his mouth. He moved faster and sucked harder. She came with a cry, falling back against the couch.

"What if it isn't?" Draco asked again, rising.

"I don't know," Ginny murmured softly. She watched him unbuckle his pants and kick them off to the side. "Again?"

Draco laughed mirthlessly. "Gin, I've only just begun." He knelt between her legs and pushed inside of her.

She watched his face carefully. "I can't figure you out."

"Then don't," he grunted, thrusting deeply into her. "I told you what I want. It's not my fault if you don't believe a word I say."

She arched her hips, meeting his thrusts. "How do I explain you to Luna?"

"Don't," Draco grunted, thrusting harder. "She doesn't have to know about me. She shouldn't."

"I can't lie to her..."

"And you said you were a liar."

Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so tired of lying all the time."

Draco shuddered as he came, spilling into her. "Don't talk about it. Ask her about herself," he gasped. He lowered himself down gingerly. "Just don't talk about yourself. As about your brothers. Ask her what she's doing for work."

"I can't. She's an Unspeakable."

That explained everything. "You can think of something."

"I don't know how to explain you anyway. I don't understand you at all."

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, lips against her ear.

"Sometimes," she admitted in a whisper.

"Not that I'll hurt you, surely."

"It's what you do to me," Ginny whispered. "Who you are. It's that I don't know how you think and I can't figure you out. I don't know what you want from me."

"You're afraid this will end and I'll hurt you, too."

"Won't you?" she asked, voice bleak. "They all do."

"You'll have to wait and see, then," Draco murmured, pressing his lips to her neck. "I'm not them. I'm something different, but you'll have to see that for yourself."

The phone rang, cutting off her reply. Sighing Draco got up and walked over to the phone. "Hullo?" He instantly perked up. "I was going to ring you after supper! Finals are over, then?" He laughed upon hearing the answer, and leaned against the island counter. "As if you couldn't handle it." He glanced over at Ginny, who was watching him curiously. "So who's picking you up from the station, then?" Draco flashed Ginny a bright smile. "Oh, there's plenty to talk about. Is your Mum hosting her usual dinner?" He laughed after hearing the reply. "Right, then."

Draco hung up and returned to Ginny's side. "That was Adrian, then?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Right. His train arrives Thursday, and his Mum will have her usual embarrassing dinner fawning all over her baby boy in University on Friday."

She looked at him almost wistfully. "So I should go back to the safe house, then."

"What? Forget about that place. Someone else lives there now, so you can't go back."

Anger glittered in her eyes. "You gave away my home?" she screeched. She struck his chest with her fist a few times, then Draco caught her wrist. She shrank back into the couch, frightened. "I didn't mean to."

"Of course you did. You're cross with me," Draco replied. "But it went to someone worthy, I assure you."

"Who?" she challenged.

"Pansy," Draco replied.

"But she's crazy!"

_And they think you're a murderer, too,_ Draco thought. He looked at her coolly. "Given her situation, she faked it. I'm surprised you didn't think of that. You're a clever girl."

She looked horrified at the thought, her face blanched white. "That was _never_ an option," she hissed.

Well, now. He'd stumbled upon something else traumatic. "So you've been there? Burns, perhaps?" Draco pulled her up into a sitting position. "Cuts from your sharp tongue?"

"They wanted me to forget," she said simply. She didn't meet Draco's eyes. "I couldn't do it again. I won't ever go back there."

"Did they believe you, those gossiping nurses? Did they whisper about you?" he asked, voice soft and sibilant. "Did they ask how such a good child could be swayed by such evil?"

"Don't," Ginny warned, hackles rising. "You don't know a thing about it."

"They whispered," he guessed, watching her reaction closely. It was his only clue into how she thought. "They thought they were quiet, but you could hear every word. Telling the truth didn't help. They plied you with potions, didn't they? Awful-tasting things they told you would help you sleep, but made the world all fuzzy about the edges."

"You can't know that!" Ginny screeched, pounding on his bare chest again. "You weren't there!"

He caught her hands in his. "You were. And you tell me everything I need to know."

She shivered beneath his gaze. "I didn't tell you everything."

"As much as you can," Draco murmured, tracing her lips with a fingertip. "You tell me what I need to know. I can guess the rest."

"You don't know anything about it. You can't possibly guess."

Draco pushed her against the couch. "They whispered about you, told all kinds of fantastic tales. You know what really happened." He slid his hand between her legs. "What else did he make you do to prove yourself? What else did you do for love?"

"Stop it," she whispered, a pleading note in her tone.

"Did they?" Draco asked mildly. "I can't imagine they did."

"Stop," she pleaded, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Please."

Her entire body was shaking. Draco drew her closer with his other arm and began to stroke her sex lightly. "Is this what made them angry? Or did they like it when you begged? I suppose that bastard Trent liked it. I don't imagine Tom would have."

"No," she whispered, clutching his shoulders. She tucked her face into the crook of his neck, still trembling. "He hated it."

"So he punished you," Draco continued, his voice soft and almost lulling. "He made you touch yourself, you said. He called you names and made you feel like a horrible girl." Draco tilted his chin and kissed her shoulder. "Did he ever grow solid?" She froze in his arms, but didn't say a word. "It's all right. I'd imagine that was his goal. He wouldn't want to possess a little girl. He'd want to be flesh again."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders. "I couldn't stop him."

"You were eleven."

"I didn't want to," she whispered. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, and Draco could feel her eyelashes flutter against his skin.

"He has a way of making you do what he wants. He makes you want it, too." Draco slipped a finger between her damp thighs. "Did he do this? Did he ever touch you like this?"

"He... He licked me," Ginny whispered softly. She sounded ashamed, yet she writhed so prettily when he did it.

"You like it when I do it," Draco remarked mildly.

"You don't take over my soul," she whispered. Her hips bucked when he crooked his finger inside of her. "You don't punish me. You should. I need to be punished."

"Don't you think reliving it all for me is punishment enough?"

Ginny gasped as he slid a second finger into her. "It's to amuse you."

"Oh, no," he drawled in response. His other arm slid down so he could stroke the small of her back. "Fucking you amuses me. But it hurts you to tell me what happened. It hurts you when I guess right."

She arched against his hand, breasts pressed against his chest. "I need to be," she gasped. "I'm filthy. I'm dirty. I need to be disciplined."

Draco crooked his fingers, eliciting another delicious gasp. "I told you already. Stop saying that shite," he hissed into her ear. "It isn't true. It's what he told you to control you. It's a wonder you haven't killed him for what he's done."

"I can't," she sobbed, curling around him. Her fingers dug into his shoulder painfully. "He's too strong. He owns me."

Draco pulled his fingers away and ignored her mewl of protest. "Who owns you now? Hm?" He took in her frightened, desperate eyes. "Get on the floor, Ginny. Should I use my wand? Should I fuck you with it? Should I make you beg for it?"

She shivered, kneeling on the floor in front of him. Her lips trembled and she stared at a spot between his feet. "You can do with me what you wish," she replied, voice dull.

"Oh, none of that shite" Draco hissed. She looked up, startled. "Don't push me into being that arsehole Trent." He leaned forward and took her chin in hand. "Don't mistake me for him. I own your body now, but I don't need to break it."

She licked her lips nervously, seemingly entranced by his intent gaze. "What do you want me to do?" she asked softly.

"Be your damn self, Ginny. Don't think I want that subservient shite. Don't think I'm the same as that bastard."

There were tears in her eyes. "I don't know how else to be."

"And he'd do what now? Hit you?" She nodded, tears spilling out from beneath her lashes. "And if you cry out, it gets worse?" She nodded again, crying in perfect silence. "How many years were you with that bastard?"

"Almost five years," Ginny whispered. "He wouldn't allow me to leave."

"Who introduced you to that pile of shite?"

"He knew Parvati," Ginny whispered, eyes falling. "He followed me home."

Draco's hand tightened on her chin. "When did it start?" She shook her head, biting her lip. His eyes narrowed. "Tell me how it started."

She struggled to take a breath. "I can't–"

Draco shook her head sharply. "You _can._ Now tell me."

Her lips trembled and she couldn't meet his gaze. "It's not that. I don't know how it started."

Draco's jaw set. "You're lying to me. You think I can't tell, don't you? He saw what he wanted to see. He wanted you to be weak and stupid, so you played the role and made him happy." He took his hand from her face. Her eyes shut and she bit her lip. "You want me to hit you. You want to make me into him so badly, you are going to do everything I tell you not to."

"I need you to discipline me," Ginny whispered desperately. "I haven't... I need it," she sobbed. "I don't feel good. I don't feel right. I'm... I'm _scared._ I don't know what to do."

Seeing the effort it had taken to admit it, Draco softened his glare. "Why aren't you trying to be angry with me? Why aren't you trying to yell and scream like you used to?"

"You didn't know then," she said miserably. "I couldn't let you know. It's horrid, I know it is. It's dirty and awful, but I can't help it. I _need_ it. I need you to punish me."

"Get on your hands and knees," Draco commanded. She obeyed right away, sniffling slightly. "It's not dirty, you know," he said mildly, kneeling beside her. He caressed her head lightly. "Plenty of people do this for fun. It's not awful at all. But I suppose no goody-goody Gryffindor would know that. It's a game, really."

"It wasn't... He hurt me," she whispered. "It wasn't a game."

Draco drew his hand back and struck her firmly on the bottom. She jerked at the impact, but swallowed the startled yelp of surprise.

"I told you. I want to hear you. You'll get extra for that."

She shivered, but didn't move. "I deserve it," she whispered.

He struck her again, hard. She yelped in pain, and made a soft whimpering noise. "That's uncalled for," he remarked mildly. "I don't believe that shite. Neither should you."

"I can't help it," Ginny whispered, eyes sliding shut. "I do believe it."

He struck her again, drawing a hiss of pain. He knelt further down so that he could talk softly near her ear. "You've got a kink, is all. You're submissive. That's not strange." He caressed her rear. "Plenty of people do it."

"Have you?" she asked, voice tremulous.

Draco smiled, thinking of Pansy. "Something like it. It's been a while."

"But it's awful to want it," Ginny whispered. "It's dirty."

Draco slid a finger inside of her. "Makes you hot, my dear," he remarked mildly. She shuddered, and he nipped her ear playfully. "I want you again," he whispered. Ginny made a soft mewling sound as Draco's finger moved faster. "I'm going to be deep inside of you. I'm going to make you come, and I want to hear all of it. Every moan."

She gasped when he changed position and thrust deeply into her. She moaned, arching her back. Draco's fingers dug into her hips, keeping her steady. Ginny's fingers scrabbled across the carpeted floor, trying to keep her balance as she gasped for air. She knew she was saying something – "Yes... Yes, there... More... Oh, Merlin, right there!"– but didn't really know it. He wanted to hear every moan, so everything she had ever internalized came tumbling out. She pushed back into his thrusts, and Draco's grunts of pleasure were increasing in volume. He thrust harder and faster, pushing deeply into her. She came, convulsing around him with a keening cry. A few more thrusts, and he came as well. He leaned forward slightly as Ginny fell to her forearms, gasping for breath.

He licked her spine gently. "Mm. Very nice."

Ginny struggled to catch her breath. "I can't... You can't..."

Draco disengaged himself. "You're absolutely right." He dropped a kiss onto her shoulder. "We shouldn't have dessert before dinner."

"I didn't..."

"You wash up and I'll start dinner."

Ginny pushed herself up to her haunches, aware of his seed dripping onto her thighs. "But it's my duty to–"

"Do you know where everything is in my cupboards?" At her blank look, Draco shook his head. "Shower or something. I'll show you after. If you want to take up cooking, you need to know where I keep things."

She looked down at her knees. "I always did that."

Draco shrugged and rummaged about in his cabinets. "I'm famished. Are you?"

"I didn't eat lunch."

"Why not? You were here."

"I didn't have permission."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! You were hungry, weren't you? Why not rummage about?" Draco frowned and opened his freezer. "I know what to make. You shower up."

Ginny bit her lip. "You're angry with me."

Draco snorted. "Ginny, you'll _know_ if I ever get angry."

Ginny nodded and walked to the bathroom. Draco smirked into his pots when he noted that she was a bit wobbly. He cooked to the sound of the shower running. It was rather nice, he decided. It was rather nice to have someone in his flat. It seemed less lonely already. During the long simmer, Draco cleaned himself up, then went to his bedroom to put on pajama bottoms. He finished dinner and looked up when Ginny came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Her hair dripped down her back.

"I couldn't find another towel."

Draco dug out his wand and dried her hair with a simple spell. "I'm guessing you never found this?" he asked, waving the wand in question.

"I never looked," Ginny murmured. She sat on one of the stools.

"It was in my jacket pocket," Draco said. "I needed it to Apparate to St. Mungo's." He took out dishes and glasses. "But I usually keep it in the kitchen drawer or the bedside table."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"So that when we get you a wand, you'll pick a different place."

She was pale. "You keep saying that."

"We'll go tomorrow, during my lunch hour."

Ginny bit her lip. "That's not a good idea."

Draco began dishing out dinner. "You have access to anything in this flat while you're living here. I don't need to shut you out of anything in here."

Her expression was unreadable. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, voice soft. "It's not just for sex. It can't be."

Draco set out dinner and poured out water into the glasses. He came to stand beside her, then grabbed her by the back of her neck. He kissed her, hot and open, his tongue plundering her mouth. His other hand pushed the edge of the towel away, and cupped a breast. He thumbed her nipple, drawing a soft mewling sound. Her arms remained at her sides, unmoving. He stroked her tongue with his, then abruptly ended the kiss. He pulled away and then sat down beside her at the island counter.

Bewildered, she wrapped the towel back around herself demurely. "I don't understand," she whispered. "Why?"

"That's fine if you don't understand," he replied curtly. "Now eat up before dinner gets cold."

She ate in silence, giving him furtive glances. He ignored them, and ate in silence. "Do I really make you happy?" she asked in a small voice.

"I think I said you stopped the boredom. Is that happiness? I thought it was laughing and having a good time."

"You don't have to be sarcastic."

Draco finished his dinner. "How did you get so damned fragile? You yell and scream and bluster. That had to come from somewhere. Where's that hiding now?"

Ginny put down her fork gently. "But if you know how horrid I am, why should I pretend anymore? Why try to act as if nothing happened?"

Draco pushed his empty plate aside, and pulled Ginny off of her stool. He pulled her closer, so that she was standing between his spread legs. "Is that what happened? Your family ignored everything they didn't want to deal with?" Ginny nodded, biting her lip. "You must have been absolutely furious."

"They loved me," she insisted fiercely. "Don't you dare make fun of them!" Her hands were fisted at her sides.

Draco pulled her even closer, so that she all but fell onto him. "They pushed your pain away. Maybe out of love. Maybe because they couldn't understand it. So the silence went on, and you continued to think it was all your fault."

"It was," Ginny declared. "I keep telling you that."

"What I did was a conscious decision," Draco murmured, hand cupping her cheek gently. "I'd do it all over again. I accept my responsibility in it. How could you have possibly kept it from happening? He was pure evil."

"I could have let Harry keep the journal, instead of stealing it back. I shouldn't have needed him so much."

Draco brushed the tears away. "He had it?" Ginny nodded miserably. "He can't have known it for what it was."

"He didn't. Tom laughed at how gullible he was, that he believed every lie and never knew what had happened to me. Harry couldn't even guess," Ginny sniffled.

"He was always rather dim, wasn't he? Never knew of this, never saw you until it was too late. I never knew what the draw was other than the Boy Who Lived thing. He wasn't terribly smart on his own." He watched as Ginny's teeth sank more deeply into her lower lip. "What?"

"He forgot I was possessed," Ginny admitted. "Everyone did. I got so good at pretending nothing was wrong. Nobody knew how much it hurt. They couldn't even guess."

Draco tracked the tears that slipped down. "You never cried about it before? You never screamed about how unfair it was?" She shook her head miserably. Draco pulled her against his chest. "They wouldn't have listened, would they? They wouldn't have understood it. Tom loved you in his own way, didn't he? At least in the beginning."

Ginny sobbed against Draco shoulder as he rubbed her back. "You don't understand," she sobbed. "I _loved_ him. He was my friend. I did everything he said, everything right. I was good, I did right all the time. I gave him everything, even when there was nothing left to give."

Draco wrapped his arms tightly around her. "And they couldn't see that. _Wouldn't_ see it. They wanted their baby girl. They don't understand the dark, empty places in you."

"I should've been better," Ginny sobbed, clutching his bare shoulders. "I should've been stronger. I couldn't fight them. I was useless, and I let it happen. I'm weak."

"You're the one still alive. That seems strong to me."

"I'm a lost cause. You should run. I'll only hurt you."

Draco threaded his fingers through her tangled hair. "I can take it." He caught her earlobe between his teeth. "The's only so good that you can be. There's only so much strength."

"I should have been better. I should have known. I should have."

Draco pulled off the towel. "Come to bed."

"The dishes," Ginny whispered, drawing back. "I should do them."

"Leave it," Draco murmured. "You need sleep. Come to bed."

Ginny's hands came to his waist. "I should take care of you."

"Sleep first. I'll be here when you wake up."

She bit her lip. "I might wake you if I have a nightmare tonight. I've screamed myself awake."

He pulled her with him to the bedroom. "You didn't have one last night." He leered at her. "Maybe I'm better for you than my potions were." Draco found her belongings still in bags. "Huh. We'll find space for your stuff. Another dresser, maybe. Where's your night stuff?"

"You don't want me?" she asked, voice hurt.

Rolling his eyes, Draco sighed. "Sleep first, woman." She found a soft nightshirt and pulled it on. She crawled into bed and watched as Draco got in beside her. He pulled her against him and tucked the blankets around them. "Sleep well."

Ginny curled around Draco's side, his steady heartbeat beneath her ear. "I hope so."

There were no nightmares that night or the next. Ginny couldn't understand it.

***  
***


	7. Visiting

_And none of these  
Thoughts are real  
So why is it that I feel  
So cut up and so bad  
I need to take control  
'Cause my mind is on a roll  
And it isn't listening to me_  
Jem, "Save Me"

 

Thursday was a clear day. Draco would collect Adrian at the station and let him settle in at home for a bit. He would meet Draco at the apothecary, then come to the flat. Draco invited Pansy as well, so that the four them would have dinner together. Ginny was terrified of the whole thing, more so when Draco had mentioned that both women should go to the Rhys dinner on Friday. She swallowed her tears down since Draco had been delighted by the idea and hadn't pushed the issue of a wand yet. She shouldn't have cared about his happiness, but old habits died hard. And besides, he somehow kept the nightmares away. It was a small request to fill in payment.

Ginny wore a light colored shirt at Draco's request, but paired it with a long black skirt. Draco sighed on his way out of the flat. "I told Pansy should come here at five. She's been hanging about town since she hasn't anything better to do. Why haven't you gone out at all?"

"I've been keeping things tidy here," Ginny replied defensively.

"Ah," he replied with a knowing smile. "By the time I lock up the shop and meet you back here, it might be five thirty or close to six. Things will still be in order when we get here, I suppose."

"I keep a spotless home. It's all I do right."

Draco pulled her against him and kissed her thoroughly. "You do other things well. Remember that, won't you?"

The workday spun by quickly. He picked up Adrian during his lunch hour and dropped him back at home. The afternoon was slow, but grinding powders made the time pass. The next thing he knew, Adrian was at the shop. He was tall and wiry, with black hair and startling blue eyes. He was built thin, in complete contrast with his sister and mother, who were both broad-shouldered and broad-hipped. Adrian was fairly serious, even if he did have a sense of humor. His sense of duty was stronger, since his father had died when he was young, leaving him the man of the house. It was something he had taken very seriously.

"Ay, mate. Still working hard, I see," he said with a grin. It lit up his entire face.  
"And you, hardly working," Draco replied with a mirroring grin. It had become their usual greeting since he had gone up to university. Adrian was on his college's track team, taking on extra tutors and trying to finish up early. Draco had remained behind as David, still grinding and boiling and making potions. It was fair, Draco had thought. He hadn't intended to do anything productive with his life before, so he was already more responsible than he planned to be.

"C'mon, David. Lock up and be done with it," Adrian said. He made a playful bounce of impatience. "You said you had surprises at your flat."

"Well, yes. But I should say something as we walk over."

"Ooh. Mysterious."

"Sort of." Draco locked up the store, stomach churning. What if this was a horrible idea?

"You look pensive."

Draco looked over at Adrian and smiled. "My cousin is over for a visit." He nearly laughed at Adrian's stunned expression. "Her name is Pansy."

"Pansy? It's... delicate," Adrian decided finally.

Draco snorted. "Trust me, Pansy's anything but."

"So that's one of your surprises, then?"

"Yes." Draco frowned and didn't look at his friend. "I don't even know how to explain the other one to you."

"Just get on with it, man. The mystery shite isn't like you."

"Your Mum know you swear?" Draco teased.

Adrian gave him a playful shove. "My Mum thinks I'm an angel, I'll have you know. I can do no wrong in her eyes."

Draco snorted. "Caught you out when you stole her pies."

"Ah, but not a lick of trouble did I get, now. So, there you have it. Alanna's the truly wicked one."

"Boys in town should be very, very afraid."

"Why? Mum's got her eye set on you, still."

Draco sighed. "I know. And she's a nice sort, even if she's as dotty as the day is long. This is the thing, though, my surprise. Well, I've got a girl living with me now."

Adrian stopped, eyes wide. "And you never told me?"

"It happened this week, really. I've known her longer, but it's only just happened."

"Bloody hell, David. That's not like you at all."

"I know," Draco replied with a frown. "I haven't figured out what's wrong with me yet."

"She must be beautiful. And _very_ talented." Draco looked away, not sure of what to say. "What? Tell me. You've told me everything before."

"No, I haven't," Draco admitted, looking over at Adrian. He nearly flinched at the concerned look on Adrian's face. "I'm just being stupid right now, I think."

"Well, then, stop it."

Draco rolled his eyes. "As if it's that simple."

"Some things are that simple. Is this?"

"I don't think so. I don't know what it is."

"That's not like you."

"I know," Draco replied with a sigh. "Shows you what happens when you stay away too many terms in a row. The whole place turns to rot without you."

It was Adrian's turn to snort. "Likely story, David. You're being melodramatic. What are you? Sixteen again?"

"Feels like it sometimes," Draco muttered.

"Pft. Good thing I'm back for summer, then. And to think I only planned to talk to the school."

"Ha. Don't you know you're supposed to save all of us?"

Adrian sorted again. "Oh, just save yourself, already. It can't possibly be that bad. She's got to have something positive for you to care about her the way you do."

"I don't know if I do," Draco muttered.

"You're making things too complicated. You always have. Life isn't always complicated, mate. So you don't know what to call it. Don't call it anything. Your girl is living with you now and you worry about her, right?" Draco nodded reluctantly. "So you care. So what if it hasn't got a name? Not everything has to. I know scientific folk do, but feelings aren't scientific."

Draco sighed. "She upset things, Adrian. I thought I'd get to know her a bit, stop being so damned bored. But now... I don't know a blasted thing anymore."

"Ah, young love," Adrian teased.

Draco gave his friend a shove. "Oh, you! I'm being serious!"

"I know," Adrian said almost somberly. "You're always so serious. It's got to stop sometime."

Draco frowned at Adrian. "And here I wanted it to be a happy occasion. Forget what I said, all right? I'll figure it out eventually. You make friends with Pansy."

Adrian goggled at Draco for a moment. "You're fixing me up!"

"Someone's got to! You don't even date at university!"

Adrian gave Draco a shove. "Bah. Too busy studying."

"Exactly. I make things too complicated, but you don't do a thing to complicate yourself. So here's your chance."

"And be all in a tizzy like you? Oh, no, I don't think so."

Draco laughed as they entered his building. "You've got to get a bit complicated sometime."

"No, thank you," Adrian joked, opening the stairwell door. "Only one of us gets that title. Mate, that's you."

"I'd like to hand it off, thanks. It's downright awful sometimes." Draco was silent until they got to his flat. "It's good to have you back, Adrian."

He grinned. "It's good to be home again."

The flat was silent as they entered it. Pansy was sitting near the window, and Ginny was in the kitchen area, still mixing something by hand in a bowl Draco didn't remember owning. She looked up with a faint smile, then went back to work on the mixing again.

"Oh, yeah," Adrian muttered seeing Draco's expression. "You definitely make things _way_ too complicated."

Introductions were made, and Adrian dutifully began to chat with Pansy, who looked fairly striking in her red shirt and jeans. Her smiles were easy, which put Draco at ease. He went over to Ginny. "Was it awful?"

She looked up and put the whisk down. He didn't remember owning that, either. "Awkward, but not awful. She's not what I thought she'd be."

Draco's brow furrowed. "Oh? What'd you think?"

"I thought she'd be mean. I remember her that way at school."

"I guess we've all changed, then," Draco murmured.

"I suppose so."

"Hey," Draco said softly, touching her arm gently. Her forlorn look smoothed out, which he found troubling. "It's all right if you're nervous. But they're all right. They're good people."

"They both mean a lot to you," Ginny murmured.

"Everyone in this place does," Draco replied honestly. She looked up at him, a startled expression on her face. Draco moved over to Adrian and Pansy, who were talking softly by the window. He could make out their words as he grew closer, and his breath caught.

"You're not really his cousin," Adrian said, no recriminations in his voice or facial expression.

Pansy shook her head with a sad smile. "Might as well be, because our parents had been friends. We grew up together."

"You mentioned school," Adrian murmured.

"We've known each other a long time," Pansy replied with a smile.

"You know, he hasn't mentioned you before today."

"No, he wouldn't." Her voice was sad, but her wry smile was still plastered on her face. "It was a difficult time for all of us."

"The war, you mean." Pansy nodded. "You were in it."

"It's a long story," Pansy deflected.

"Which side were you on?"

"The wrong one, I guess," she answered with a sigh. "But I got out before the end of it."

"Can I see?" Adrian asked gently. Pansy nodded and pulled back the long sleeve of her shirt. He made a hissing noise of pain at the sight of it.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Pansy said gently. "That's the burn marks in my bones. I think it won't show as much if I gain a little more weight back."

"It's horrid looking."

"Yes, it is," Pansy murmured, nodding. There was no shame or regret in her voice. "I was young and stupid."

"You've been through a lot," he said softly, touching her hand.

"I'll live," Pansy replied gently. "It's all right."

"No, it's not. Nobody should just accept pain as their lot in life."

Draco had to smile. That was Adrian, all caring and wholesome.

Pansy smiled at Adrian. "It's okay. I got out of it when I could."

"It was too late by then, wasn't it?" Adrian asked softly.

She shrugged in reply. "I was safe. People left me alone, mostly. It was really all I could ask for at the time."

"And now?"

"I'm glad Dr– David's alive," Pansy said brightly. "And we're all here."

"He's not really David Marsh, is he?" Adrian asked.

Pansy looked away and saw Draco standing nearby, listening. Adrian followed her gaze and looked at him expectantly.

"I am now," Draco said. "Whoever I was before doesn't matter."

"Ah. So you _are_ Draco Malfoy." He laughed at their startled expressions. "I'm not stupid, mate. We heard of the war here, you know. It was easy enough to figure out."

"But you never said..."

"No need. You weren't the horrible things the papers said you were. Clive wouldn't let just anyone work for him, you know. And Eselda would never let you take tea in her shop. You were just some new kid that needed a friend."

"You're a better man than me," Draco remarked.

Adrian laughed when Pansy rolled her eyes. "Melodrama. Not just for the telly, is it?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea what that is," Pansy replied. "I was too busy pretending to be crazy."

"Oh, dear," Adrian murmured. "We'll go through all of my movies, then. We'll avoid Mum's, as they're all deadly dull."

"Well, I don't know," Draco began. "There was that one..."

"Dull, trust me," Adrian interrupted with a grin.

Ginny came over with a tray of snacks and drinks. "The roast should be done soon," she said. Draco could see how uncomfortable she was, and ran a hand along her shoulder. She gave them all a faint smile and went back to the kitchen.

"Roast? Ah, she's a keeper, then," Adrian said with a grin. "My Mum says every girl should know how to make a roast, a stew and a pie. That's bare bones cooking."

"I don't know how to do that either," Pansy confessed. "I've tried." She glared at Draco when he sniggered in amusement. "I've burned everything I've tried to make."

"Oh, come early tomorrow, then," Adrian offered. "Mum loves cooking. Absolutely loves it. She's nutters and Alanna couldn't give a fig about it. She'll be your champion forever if you show any kind of interest in it."

"Isn't that for family, you said?"

"Oh, well, Dave's almost like a brother. And you're almost like his cousin. Close enough."

Pansy returned his infectious grin. "Charming," she murmured.

"Another thing to thank my Mum for, then," Adrian said brightly. He took a sip of the watered wine thoughtfully. "Really, everything's her fault. Well, maybe not. Dave's done a right lot of damage himself."

_"Someone_ had to be the corrupting influence," Draco replied, picking up a carrot stick. He didn't remember buying vegetables or roast meats. Ginny must have gone out during the day, then. He was glad she was out and about.

"In that case," Pansy remarked slyly, "go corrupt over there. I think it's time to exert influence of my own here."

Draco and Adrian locked eyes, and Draco laughed amiably. "I see when I'm not wanted, then. Mate, you're on your own. Nice to have known you."

Laughing, he made his way over to Ginny. "You're a marvelous cook, aren't you?" he asked quietly, looking over the organized mess that used to be his kitchen.

"I learned from my Mum," she said quietly, not looking up.

"Good cook, then?"

"Quite good. I didn't get her recipe book, though. I don't all of them." There was an undercurrent of pain in her voice. Draco belatedly remembered that her mother was dead.

"Well, I'm sure Luna can bring it. She doesn't strike me as the cooking type. She'd likely forget and burn the house down."

"Fleur has it, probably."

"Who?"

"My sister-in-law. She married my brother Bill."

"Can't you borrow it, or something?"

"I'm hardly in a position to ask," she replied tartly.

He grinned at her, then moved to set out places at his coffee table, since he didn't have an actual dining area other than his counter.

"So where's your wand?" Adrian asked Pansy as they came over to the couch. "Unless you have it tucked away somewhere I shouldn't see?"

"Hardly. It's broken."

"Oh? I'm sorry. I understand they're rather important."

Pansy accepted a glass of water from Draco. "Perhaps if I wasn't in the hospital, it would have mattered more."

Ginny brought the dishes and serving spoons over to the makeshift dining room table. "You could make this a real table, you know," she told Draco pointedly.

"Not as much fun," Draco replied, pouring out more water. He looked at Pansy. "I didn't know your wand was broken."

"One of the things that happened before the hospital," she said, her voice devoid of all emotion.

"Hm... In that case, we should all go shopping for wands tomorrow. Wands for everybody." Draco paused. "Well, I've got one already."

"You're forgetting I can't use one," Adrian added dryly.

"Oh, I'll let you borrow mine. You can wave it about and make up spells and pretend for a bit," Draco replied cheekily.

"Prat."

"Git," Draco countered with a grin.

"We should eat," Ginny said, avoiding Pansy's gaze. The woman had tried to roll her eyes and grin in a conspiratorial way, as if to say _Look at what idiots they're being!_ But even the idea of being friendly with anyone was uncomfortable. She didn't know where to begin anymore.

Draco had noticed the byplay and could guess at the reasons behind it. If he hadn't started this whole thing by admitting that he knew her secrets, he doubted they would have been able to speak about it. She was too used to silence, to keeping it all tucked away inside.

Adrian and Draco carried most of the conversation over dinner. Pansy joined in where she could, and spent her silent periods observing the others. Ginny hardly spoke, though her silence wasn't as noticeable. Draco felt it because he knew it was there. He could feel her discomfort sit in his belly like a rock. _She needs this,_ he told himself sternly. He didn't examine the thought too closely. He never examined anything closely before, and he certainly was not about to start right now.

Like a perfect gentleman, Adrian offered to walk Pansy home. She accepted graciously, and grinned at Draco's surprised expression. Adrian thanked Draco for dinner, and reminded him of the Rhys family dinner Friday.

Draco could see Ginny's suppressed panic as she washed the dishes by hand. It didn't seem to bother her that she was doing things like a Muggle. He supposed it was how she spent the last five years under Trent's thumb.

"Did you like Adrian?" he asked, sitting at the counter.

"He's a nice fellow," Ginny replied, still washing dishes.

"But did you like him?" Draco repeated, knowing a deflection when he saw it. She likely learned how to do it years ago.

"He's all right," she said finally. "He seems nice."

"You don't like Pansy."

"I don't know her."

"You didn't want to, either," Draco observed.

She washed dishes in silence. When she finished, she turned and saw Draco still sitting there. He took in the sight of her, noting the watery eyes and the bitten lip. He could see the fragile, broken edges in her. He saw everything her voice only hinted at, and it fascinated him. She was lonely in her crowded house, shadowed by everything she had ever known. When touched by darkness and evil and rage, no one could help her understand it. The darker parts of her soul were hidden away, kept from view. She hadn't been allowed to feel it, express it or acknowledge it.

"What?" she asked, voice on edge.

"What kept you there? With the lost causes they were, why did you stay? Why did you take it?"

He had surprised her, but he could see her hackles rising. "You weren't there. Stop pretending that you care and want to help me. Stop pretending you even like me."

Draco's mouth flattened and he looked at her darkly. She took a half step back, then sideways a step. "Are you afraid of me?" He got down from his seat, and Ginny skittered backward into the hallway. Draco followed her, aware of how threatening his posture was.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked desperately. She was so pale that every freckle stood out in stark relief as she backed into the bedroom.

He grabbed her and spun her around so that she faced the mirror. "What do you see?" he hissed against her ear. His arms encircled her waist, and her back was pressed against his front. "What do you see?" he repeated, nearly shaking her.

"M-myself," she whispered. She met his eyes in the mirror. "Just me."

_"Just,"_ he sniffed, irritated. "What about yourself? What about you?"

"I'm nobody," she said quietly. Her taut, terrified form nearly vibrated with tension. "I'm nobody important. I don't matter."

"Bullshit," Draco spat. "Trent was going to summon a demon so he could control you. There's parts of you that no one can touch, no one can understand." He shook her once out of frustration. _"Why did you stay with him?"_

"I don't know," she gasped, her expression beseeching him via the mirror to stop. "I don't!"

"You _know._ You knew what he was like from the start. Some part of you always knew. But if he hit you, you were alive. You were noticed. He'd never leave you if he could hit you. He'd tell you that he loved you after he hit you, isn't that so? Isn't that how it worked? Isn't that why you stayed?"

She very nearly collapsed against him, her eyes falling from the mirror. "It wasn't like that," she protested weakly. "It wasn't. I was dangerous. I needed to be controlled. He had to prevent me from harming myself. I was falling apart."

"Sure. But he just broke all of the pieces. He left you a mess."

Ginny began to cry. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why did you stay?" he asked, voice oddly gentle. "You know why."

"I loved him," she said in a tiny voice. "If I could only make him happy, then he could love me back. If he did, then I'd stop hurting."

Draco turned her around and gathered her up in his arms as she began to sob.

***  
***


	8. Discussion

_Never seem to get in the place that I belong  
Don't wanna lose the time  
Lose the time to come  
Whatever you say it's alright  
Whatever you do it's all good  
Whatever you say it's alright  
Silence is not the way  
We need to talk about it  
If heaven is on the way_  
Bush, "Letting the Cables Sleep"

 

 

"I started this because I knew something happened to you the moment I heard you speak," Draco said, still cradling Ginny. Her sobs had quieted, but she still clung to him. "I know what the death of hope sounds like. I started this because I had no purpose here. I was existing, nothing more. That's why I'm doing this."

"I don't love you," she whimpered.

His gut twisted painfully. "I know. That's all right."

"I'll hurt you. I'm evil."

"I expect you to hurt me," Draco murmured, stroking her hair. "But you're not evil. Whatever you were, whatever you are, it isn't evil. I know what evil is, and you're not it."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, pulling back to search his face desperately.

"Because somebody should have said so ten years ago. Someone should have told you it's all right if you lose your innocence or if you get fooled by darkness. It happens."

"I'm supposed to be good," she whispered, still searching his face.

"At what?"

"At everything, I suppose. I was supposed to be a good girl."

"So what makes a good girl?"

She frowned at him. "You're making fun of me."

"Not at all. I've never been a girl, much less a good one."

Ginny sighed. "I'm supposed to obey my parents, go to school, get a great job, find a good man and have a family. I'm supposed to do my duty by my family, take care of my parents and brothers. I'm supposed to be brave and good, someone to look up to."

"What is this 'good' you keep saying? Can't someone be looked up to if they're not good?"

"No, of course not. You have to do what's right."

"Did my father?" Draco asked, voice soft. "Did my Aunt Bella? Did Professor Snape? Did they always do what's right?" He traced her cheek with a fingertip. "What's right, anyway? How do you know if someone's right or not?"

"You're trying to trick me," Ginny accused.

"No. You think in absolutes. If there's one thing we all learn quickly in Slytherin, it's that nothing is absolute. There is no single right or wrong, good or evil. That's why the other Houses thought we were all power-mad. There are no absolutes, no ideals and no perfection. There's no such thing. There never was."

"There has to be," Ginny whispered desperately. "There has to be _something._ There has to be a _reason."_

"My father hated yours," Draco said flatly. "My aunt is crazy. _Was_ crazy. And Snape had reasons he never told anybody. We do what we think is right, but that doesn't make us perfect. I ran away. I left my friends without a backward thought. Some joined up because they thought Potter killed me. Does that make me evil?"

"You're selfish."

"A survivor," Draco clarified. "But am I evil?"

"Yes," Ginny replied automatically.

"Then why aren't you dead yet? If I'm so evil, why did I take you into my home? Why did I take you into my bed? Why am I trying to take care of you?"

She looked frightened. No, absolutely terrified. Draco found no pleasure in it, only a vague emptiness in his chest.

"I don't know," she whispered.

Draco turned her around so that she faced the mirror again. "Do you think you're worth saving?"

She shook her head, upset. "I don't know."

"Everyone's worth saving. I was sixteen and stupid. If I had met you first, Trent wouldn't have been able to shatter you. But I was selfish and spoiled. I didn't grow up until I got here. This place saved me. I learned who I was when I was here and on my own."

"I don't know who I am anymore."

"Maybe it's time you found out."

"How?" Ginny asked. "I'm useless. I can't do anything right."

Draco cupped a breast in one hand. "Not entirely true. You do that very well."

"I know I'm a whore," she said faintly. "But I need to be better." Her lips trembled. "I'm supposed to be able to do it. I should know all this. I should be able to do something."

Draco bared her shoulder and kissed it tenderly. "Not everyone can. What makes you so special that you could?"

"I'm supposed to rise from a dark place."

"You did leave the Chamber."

"But I didn't, really. I took it with me."

"That's probably the truest thing you've said all day." He kissed her shoulder again as he kneaded her breast lightly. "So what if you took it with you? So what if he was part of you? So what?"

Ginny moaned and let her head fall back. "I'm wicked," she whispered.

"Is that really so bad?" Draco whispered against her skin.

Ginny shuddered. "Yes, it is."

"Why? Tell me why."

"Wicked girls... They get whispered about. They're the dirty ones, the ones nobody talks to. They're tainted... There's no hope, no future, nothing to believe in."

Draco slid a hand beneath the waistband of her skirt and panties. "Is that really so terrible?"

"Yes... Good girls don't do this. They're respected."

"And if I told you that I respected you, would you believe me?"

"No," she gasped as his fingers found her center. She was already growing wet, arching back and into his touch.

"Oh, but you don't think you're worthy of respect."

"Not after what I've done."

"So if you'll never be pure, why try? Why be what they want you to be if it can never happen?"

"They love... me. I have to try. I can't disappoint them."

"If they really loved you, you could never truly disappoint them. My own mother told me this."

Ginny arched into his touch. "Please," she begged. "I need more. Please. I need it..."

"Take your clothes off," he hissed into her ear. If this was the only kind of love she could accept, he was more than willing to give it to her. He wasn't a good man. He was greedy, selfish, cowardly and secretive. But on occasion, he could be more. On occasion, he was almost good.

She hurried to obey his command, not looking at him once.

"What do you want?" Draco asked quietly.

"I don't know," she whispered, still not looking at him.

"Sure, you do. You want to push me into being them. You want me to be what they were. You want me to tell you what to do. You don't want responsibility. You only want blame." He touched her shoulder. "So tell me. What do you want?"

"I wish it never happened," Ginny whispered.

He tipped her chin up to look at him. "But it did. So now what? What next?"

"I don't know."

"You don't get the easy way out," Draco said quietly. "You don't get me telling you what to do all damn day. You have to tell me what you want."

"But what if I really don't know?"

"You do know. You're just hiding because that's easier." His hand fell from her chin to her bare breast. "This is easy. There's no thinking, no feeling. Isn't that it?" He flicked his thumb over her nipple. "It's what you're used to. It's what everyone has always done. They hid you away so you never had to learn to deal with anything. They told you how to feel, how to think. It was easier just to pretend, to be whatever they wanted you to be. You just pushed the pain down deep, where they couldn't see. Is that what made you happy?"

"No," she whispered, entranced. "How do you understand if you've been gone so long? You weren't there."

"I understand life as it is, not as it should be." He let his hand trace the curve of her hip. "Some things never change."

"Some things change too much."

"Maybe." He slid his hand from her hip to her mons. "So how do you want this?"

She froze. "Wh-what? I don't–"

"The living area? Kitchen? Bathroom? Floor? Here? What?"

Her relief was painful. "Here, please."

He kissed her thoroughly, as if drawing the very breath out of her. She opened her mouth under his, her arms wrapping around him tightly. His arms wound around her, tracing the skin of her back. He began to walk backward slowly, toward the bed. Ginny was beginning to unbutton his shirt when the backs of his calves hit the bed.

"You on top," he whispered, breaking the kiss. He shrugged out of his clothing and then stretched out on the bed. He smiled at her pale face, the slight tremor in her hand.

She had to take the lead sometime.

Ginny climbed onto the bed almost hesitantly. She rubbed his abdomen gently, kneeling beside him. She bent down and licked his side. Draco reached out and rested his hand on her hip as she moved down to his cock. She took him into her mouth and gently began to suck. She bobbed her head up and down after a moment, laving the head of his cock with her tongue. As much as it felt good, there was a measured quality to each lick, each touch of her lip or hands.

"Stop," he ground out finally. She pulled back and looked at him, brows knit in confusion.

"That's what Trent told you to do, isn't it?" Ginny nodded wordlessly. "What are you thinking of? Because it sure as hell isn't me."

"I wasn't thinking of anything," she replied in a small voice. "I don't, I promise."

He thought of her desperate pleas in her nightmares, the agonized tone of her voice. He thought of the fractured edges, the fault lines no one else could see.

"When I've touched you, have you ever felt like I wasn't mentally there?" She shook her head, eyes dropping down to her lap. "Then why would you do that to me? Why do you insist on turning me into him?"

"It's all I know," she said softly.

"Possibly the truest thing you ever said." He traced her thigh with a fingertip. "Just... Don't do something just because it's what he used to want. Figure out what I want. Figure out what you want to do. There's no magic sequence."

"You're disappointed in me," she whispered. "I'm a failure."

"You've never had a real relationship, have you? Those rumors at school had you bullying everyone about. You never learned how to have a real relationship."

"Have you?"

"Sort of. My parents did."

"Mine did, too," she whispered. "But I've gotten all screwed up and I don't know how to fix it."

"You have to feel the moment. Life it like it's your last."

"Is that how you've been?"

"Sort of. I became someone else, after all. I'm not a Malfoy anymore. You're still a Weasley."

"I shouldn't be," she replied fiercely.

His fingers skimmed across her skin, and he watched her shiver. "Just try again."

"I don't know how to feel."

"Sure, you do. Clear your mind and start again."

"It _was_ clear."

"No, it was empty. There's a difference. When your mind is clear, experience flows through you. When it's empty, nothing goes in or out." He settled back on the bed. "Just try again."

She sighed and bent her head down again. She kissed his stomach, lips fluttering and breath hitching. She moved down slowly, her hand already stroking his inner thigh. She licked his burgeoning length tentatively, then more firmly when she heard his contented sigh. She took his balls into her mouth, perched precariously over him.

"That's nice," Draco breathed. He reached out and touched her thigh. His fingers moved toward the wet cleft, stroking it gently. She gasped, shifting her position slightly. When Ginny took him into her mouth this time, it didn't feel like rote technique. Her tongue traced the length of him, then swirled around the head. She moved slowly, methodically, adjusting to what made him gasp in appreciation. Her fingertips traced the insides of his thighs, the curve of his buttocks and the folds of flesh in between. She grew more bold when there was no command to stop, no hard strike against her leg. He had marked her, not once. Her motions were more sure, less hesitant. She topped before it became too pleasurable. Her eyes were dilated, her breath coming in short gasps. Draco's fingers had been just as busy as her tongue. "Please," she gasped.

"You'll come," Draco replied, voice strained. "I want you to come." He slid his fingers deeply inside of her, and she let out a cry of pleasure. "That's it."

"But you..."

"You first," he said firmly.

His fingers stroked her clit, slick with her own juices. She closed her eyes and arched into his touch as the first blossom of pleasure washed over her. Draco pressed a touch harder, continuing even as he watched her body tighten. He continued through her orgasm, her incoherent gasps. He pushed her higher, farther, and her body convulsed again. Even so, he kept stroking, enjoying the flush of her skin and the sound of her cries. He brought her to climax again before he pulled his hand away.

Ginny looked ready to fall over. "Oh."

"All right?" She nodded, looking almost faint. "Now you can ride me."

"I can hardly move," she panted. Still, she tried to move. Draco helped her reposition herself over him, then guided his aching cock into her wet sheath. He nearly hissed at the sensation, the fluttering, grasping feel of her. He grasped Ginny's hips as she began to rock slowly.

"Tell me how it feels," he gasped, fingers tightening.

"You feel so good," Ginny moaned, head thrown back. Her strokes were long and deep. "I like this," she gasped, mouth falling open. "You feel..." Draco shifted his hips so that her strokes were even deeper. "Yes, right there."

They rocked against each other, and Draco moved one hand so that he could finger her clit. She let out a keening cry, and began to rock faster. Draco moved his hand faster, harder. His other grasped a breast pinching the nipple lightly. Ginny let out a moan of pleasure, pushing her breast against his hand. "Oh... yes... like that..."

She came, convulsing around him. It was good, and he was close. Ginny looked at him when she realized he was still hard inside of her. "Draco?"

"More to go, Ginny," he murmured, beginning to stroke her clit again. "Fuck me hard." She gasped, eyes wide and dilated. "Make me come," he moaned.

Ginny began to rock again, riding him hard and fast. "Oh, you feel so good," she panted. He continued to tease her clit as she rocked, his other hand still teasing her nipple. "Yes, just like that, right there... Oh, yes, yes... Oh! Right there, more, right there, oh yes, yes..." She let out a keening cry as she came, trembling. Her orgasm spasmed around him, and Draco let out a cry as he came. Once his breath evened out, he looked up at Ginny, still struggling for breath.

"Lie down. It's getting late."

"I should clean up..." Ginny began, weakly climbing off of him.

"Tomorrow. It can wait." Draco pulled her down and tucked her against him. "Sweet dreams, Ginny," he whispered.

She sighed, his heartbeat against her ear. "Maybe it will be."

Together, they slept.

***  
***


	9. Uneasiness

_Can I ask you a question please  
Promise you won't laugh at me  
Honestly I'm standing here  
Afraid I'll be betrayed  
As twisted as it seems  
I only fear love when it's in my dreams  
So let the morning light come in  
And let the darkness fade away_  
Alana Grace, "Black Roses Red"

 

Draco had asked Ginny to meet him at the apothecary shop at lunchtime. Pansy was also set to meet him there, and she was spending the rest of the day with Adrian. Pansy arrived first, and poked about the shop. "It's hard to think of you as a shopkeeper," she began, looking at bottles carefully labeled in his handwriting. "But you seem happy enough."

"I like it, actually," he commented, locking up the cash box.

"Your friend is nice," Pansy remarked.

"I thought you'd like him."

"He's... different. I don't even mind that he's Muggle."

"This place is like that."

Ginny arrived soon after, and she stopped short when she saw Pansy. "Oh. You're busy."

"We're all heading to the wand shop," Draco said, taking Ginny's arm before she could flee. "Shall we?"

The walk to Llewelyn Wands was silent and almost uncomfortable. Once inside, Brennan Llewelyn looked up from the counter, where he was polishing a newly mended wand. "Good afternoon," he called out.

"The ladies need wands," Draco said cheerfully.

"The best ones in the parish are here," he replied, smiling. He put the wand in a box and wiped his hands on his apron. "They're all handmade, hand mended and hand polished." He came up the three and smiled. "It's an art you can't rely on magic alone. So, who'd like to go first?"

"I will," Pansy said, once it was clear Ginny wasn't going to speak. "I haven't had a wand in years, sir."

"Ah. Your full name?"

"Pansy Clara Parkinson," she replied without a moment's hesitation.

"Hm... And let's see..." he murmured, pursing the shelves. "Ah. Here we are. Try this one."

Pansy took the proffered wand and gave it an experimental swish. Green sparks flew out, glittering like stars. "Pretty."

"Ebony and a core of mandrake root. Very good at healing spells, some kinds of charms work," Brennan commented. "It seems to suit you." He smiled at Pansy's beaming face, then turned to Ginny's pale one. "Your name?"

"Ginny," she replied, voice soft and hoarse.

"Full name?" he asked, brow furrowed.

After some hesitation, she replied "Ginevra Molly Weasley."

Brennan nodded thoughtfully. After perusing the shelves, he ducked into the back room. He returned with a box that looked dusty and old. "Here we are. Try this one."

Ginny felt a tremor in her hand when she held the proffered wand. She gave it an awkward shake, as if she was an ickle firstie all over again. Nothing happened, and she held it out to Brennan. "It didn't work."

"Try once more," he said gently, something like pity in his eyes.

She gave it a hard shake, and a gust of flame shot out, setting the carpet on fire. She glanced at it in shock, mouth falling open. Pansy put it out, irritated at Ginny's hesitancy.

"Well, now," Brennan murmured. "And here, I thought it would never get sold."

"Why not?" Ginny asked, looking up with frightened eyes.

"It's made from rowan wood, with a phoenix feather core. But when I made it, the wand wouldn't seal properly." He moved to his ancient cash register. "It took a mixture of powdered unicorn horn and dragon scales to seal it. The thing has been a most peculiar wand as a result. Just anyone couldn't hold it, let alone use it. You must be quite the young witch."

"I think so," Draco replied as Ginny looked away in embarrassment. "I'll settle the bill."

As Draco paid for the wands, Pansy went to Ginny's side. She was staring at the wand in her hands in something like shock. "He hurt you, didn't he?"

Ginny looked up, startled. "Draco would never–"

Pansy looked at her oddly. "Of course not. I meant Davies."

She was deathly pale. "What?"

"Well, according to the Prophet–"

"All done," Draco interrupted cheerily. He glared at Pansy, who was confused by the interruption. "Let's go to lunch."

Lunch was a strained affair, with very little conversation. Adrian met them about halfway through, and began to talk about how university had been, and how he planned to teach when he finally settled back in town for good. Afterward, he and Pansy went off together so he could show her around town.

"You shouldn't have gotten me that wand," Ginny said softly. She could feel the smooth wood against her forearm, since she had tucked the wand into her sleeve.

"Am I going to wake up with your wand at my throat?"

"No," she said softly, looking down at her empty plate.

"Then it's not a problem."

"It is for me," she whispered. "I might hurt you."

"We'll deal with that when it happens," he replied. He drank the rest of his tea and looked at her. "I do hope you'd be open with it if you do decide to harm me. No poisons or potions. Straightforward hexes would be best."

"Why?" she gasped, eyes wide.

"Then we'll both know it was you and that it was your choice. This is all your choice, you know."

"How is it my choice?" she asked bitterly. "You brought me here."

"You haven't walked away yet. If you chose to leave, you'd find the door unlocked. I'm not forcing you to stay."

"Yes, you are."

"How? I haven't tied you down or beaten you into submission. If you truly wanted to leave, you could." Draco leaned forward and Ginny leaned back in her chair. "You want this. You want what I can give you, even if you can't ask for it yet. That's why you stay."

"No one else would understand it," she whispered.

"Just so. And that's why you stay. I'm not forcing you to. Have I ever _really_ forced you to do something you really didn't want to do?" He smirked at her. "And doing things you're scared of doesn't count."

"I don't know."

"Sure, you do. We've gone over this." He dropped money on the table to cover their meals. Adrian had already paid for his and Pansy's meals. "Come on. You need to do something during the day, and I have an idea."

The idea led them to Madame Eselda's bookshop. The witch behind the counter had gray streaks in her black hair, twinkling green eyes and a petite frame. She beamed at Draco. "It's been an age, David. How are you?"

"I've been occupied," he replied easily. "Eselda, this is Ginny. We're going to look around a bit."

"Of course," she replied, waving them off. "Stock's newly updated, so take your time."

They wandered about the stacks a bit, seemingly aimlessly. "What's your favorite color?" Draco asked, picking up something from the Classics section.

"Um... Pink or red, I suppose."

"Favorites aren't suppose kinds of things," Draco remarked.

"Well, that's mostly what I got as the only girl. I got used to it."

"And if you could only wear one color ever again?"

"Purple," Ginny replied automatically.

Draco smiled and pulled her up against him. "Was that so difficult?" he asked, cupping a breast.

"We're in public," she gasped

"You'll have to be quiet."

There was a spark of fear in her eyes, a rising panic that looked all too familiar. Draco kissed her gently, then turned her around. He teased a nipple through her blouse, and slipped a hand inside the waistband of her skirt. "Please don't," she whimpered.

Draco withdrew and turned her around. He stroked her face gently, taking in her damp eyes and trembling lips. "What did he do?"

"I can't be on display," Ginny whispered. "Please don't make me."

"Okay. No public stuff. Got it." He picked up the book he had dropped. He kissed her nose and then pulled her into another aisle. "In any case, I've got to get back to work soon." He looked at some of the books on the shelves. "Do you think you could write with a pen or a quill?"

Ginny looked at him blankly. "What?"

"We'll stick with the Muggle things. You'll know they're not charmed." He took a lavender covered blank book off of the shelf next to them, and Ginny realized that they were in the journals section.

"I can't have a diary..."

"Journal," Draco replied cheerily. "A perfectly Muggle thing."

He pulled her along, and Ginny noted the second book. "What's that?"

"Heraclitus," Draco said. He flipped to a particular section of the book. "Professor Snape gave me a copy when I first got here. It didn't make any sense at first. I think by the third or fourth reading it did. I gave my copy to Adrian, so I have buy you one."

"You don't have to..."

"I know." He handed her the open book. "Here. That's my favorite passage in the book."

Ginny took it awkwardly, her face a mask of uncertainty. "The content of your character is your choice. Day by day, what you choose, what you think and what you do is who you become. Your integrity is your destiny."

"It makes sense," Draco said with a decided nod. "Now, we'll get you some nice pens to write with. Maybe some colored inks or something. Purple, maybe," he told her with a smile.

"Why?" she asked, confused.

"You've been hiding for a long time. Don't you think it's time you found out who you are?"

Ginny ducked her head, unable to speak. She let herself be led to the front of the store. Draco picked out an array of pretty and expensive pens. Ginny didn't make any kind of fuss in front of Eselda, though Draco could tell that she wanted to.

"Tell Clive that he keeps you hidden away too often," Eselda scolded. "It's been an age since you've been here."

"I've been occupied," Draco replied with a smile. "It wasn't all Clive's doing."

"Well, then. She must be something special," Eselda replied warmly, looking at Ginny.

"I think so," Draco said with a smile as Ginny blushed.

"Adrian was in here a little while ago with a new girl I hadn't seen before. Dark hair and pretty eyes," Eselda commented.

"My cousin Pansy," Draco supplied helpfully. "He's been nice enough to show her about while I'm at work."

"David, it certainly wasn't obligation I saw," Eselda said in a conspiratorial whisper. She laughed and handed over his purchases. "They looked nice together. I hope she'll stay here, rather than draw him out. He wanted to teach here, and it would be a shame if he left."

"Somehow I don't think that's even a possibility," Draco said dryly. "Adrian likes it here too much to ever leave."

"I certainly hope so. It's a shame when a small town loses such a bright mind to the city. Well now, you tell Clive I said hello, and I expect to see him at the festival next weekend, no excuses."

Draco laughed. "I'll tell him, as good as that'll be."

"You know everyone in this town, don't you?" Ginny asked as they walked to the apothecary.

"I've lived here six years... almost seven, now." Draco stopped in front of the shop. "Do you know the way home?"

An innocuous question, but one that set her to shivering. "Yes."

He touched her face gently. "I'll come back, and then we'll go to the dinner party. If it gets too uncomfortable tonight, I'll take you home."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Good thing you didn't," he replied brightly. "They're family. It'll be all right."

"If you're sure..."

"Of course." He kissed her gently. "I'll see you soon."

She was sitting on the couch, her feet tucked under her when he got back. The bag from the bookshop was unopened and there was a slip of parchment in her lap.

"Something's happened," he said unnecessarily. She didn't move as he cautiously approached. "Ginny?" he asked tentatively.

"What do I say?" she asked, voice warbling.

Draco took the parchment from her lap. It was a note from Luna, stating that she would visit next weekend, during the festival. She hoped Ginny was doing well, and could tell her what had happened in the past week.

"So she was tracking you in that house. No care about how it looked, how it was crumbling. No care about your nightmares."

"I haven't told her."

"She's a Ravenclaw. She's not stupid. Anyone can tell what those shadows beneath your eyes means. You're not sleeping, and you're having nightmares." Draco sat down beside her. "What are you really afraid of, Ginny?"

"She doesn't know what it was like," she whispered brokenly. "She can't begin to guess. I can't tell her."

Draco doubted that Luna didn't know what was going on. He'd like to exchange choice words with her as well.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" he asked.

Ginny turned to him, horrified. "Oh, no. No, you can't. You mustn't tell her anything." Her voice was desperate, terrified.

"What are you really afraid of?" he asked, voice gentle. "Not of me, surely." She shook her head mutely. "Not of Luna." She shook her head again. "So what is it?"

"She'll get in trouble because of me," she whispered hoarsely.

"I don't follow," Draco said, confused.

"If I tell her, she'll want to do something about it. She'll hurt him, she'll do _something_ that makes sense to her but will get her into so much trouble." Ginny began to cry. "I'm not worth that. I can't have getting into trouble because of me."

"Maybe she thinks you are," he began carefully. She shook her head, shaking. "She's a Ravenclaw, besides. If she chose to do so something like that, she'd know how to hide the evidence so no one would ever know it was her."

"I'm not worth that," she sobbed. "It would ruin everything."

He pushed her back, into the couch, and kissed her passionately. Her mouth opened beneath his, and her body molded itself against his. His tongue plunged into her mouth as he lifted the edge of her skirt. Their tongues dueled, and she grasped his shirt in her hands desperately. Draco traced the folds of her sex through her panties, causing her to gasp.

"The dinner..." she began.

"You first," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her again. "I want you to enjoy yourself."

"I'm not–"

"Yes, you are," Draco insisted. He kissed her, again thrusting his tongue into her mouth. "You're worth the effort."

She searched his face anxiously. "You mean that."

"Yes, I do. And before you ask, I don't know why. I just do."

She bit her lip nervously. "We should walk over."

He traced the curve of her lip. "All right. Mrs. Rhys can be a handful if you're not used to it. You _don't_ have to answer all of her questions. A smile and an excuse works. Once you distract her with something, she'll forget. She doesn't do it to be mean, just to get to know you better." Draco grinned. "Trust me on that one."

"All right. If you say so."

Draco distracted her during their walk to the Rhys household. He told her about the upcoming festival, and the different events in it. "It's held at the beginning of summer every year," Draco concluded. He looked up. "Ah, here we are. Just there, number 10."

Ginny let Draco do all of the introductions, and smiled politely in all the right places. Draco pulled Pansy aside when Ginny was listening politely to Alanna speak. "Don't tell her that he's dead," he whispered.

"What? Whyever not?"

"She thinks he's still alive," Draco hissed. "Lovegood lied to her."

"So why not just tell her?"

"I want to confront Lovegood on this one. She'll be here next week," he added, answering her unspoken question.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You always had to be difficult. Fine, then. I won't say a word about it."

"Thanks."

Dinner was pleasant, full of tales of Adrian' time at university, Alanna's classes and gossip about the townsfolk. Ginny smiled in all the right places, yet somehow seemed distant from the others. Pansy more than made up for her silence.

"I do hope you'll stay," Sarah told Pansy. She smiled sweetly at her. "Alanna can take you about if Adrian's too busy."

Adrian rolled his eyes. "I'm not busy, Mum. I've already asked her to the festival."

Sarah beamed. "How lovely. And David, you'll be going also?"

"Of course. I'm taking Ginny." He wanted to laugh at Alanna's pout, but kept silent.

"I've never been to one," Ginny said once Sarah looked at her. "It must be nice."

Sarah launched into the history of the summer festival, and its importance to the town. "It's a symbol of renewal, faith and love. Many marriages or engagements take place there. Dear William had proposed to me on a festival day, and we married at midwinter. It was a lovely, lovely day."

Draco watched Ginny shrink into herself as Sarah spoke. He turned to Alanna. "Are you going?"

"Well, of course! I'd hoped to go with _you,_ but I suppose I can go with my friend Gwen."

Pansy perked up a bit. "So we'll meet you there, then?"

The two girls began to chat animatedly. Amused, Adrian and Draco excused themselves and began clearing some of the dishes. "Mum's got that look in her eye," Adrian groaned.

"Well, _I_ obviously think Pansy's a good one," Draco began neutrally. "But it's _your_ choice as to how far it goes. At the very least, she's a good friend."

"I suppose. And a good kisser, too," Adrian mumbled.

"What? When?"

"This afternoon. Your daft girl problems are rubbing off on me." Adrian grinned to lessen the sting of his words.

Draco began filling the dishwasher. "It gets better, at least. The confusion goes away after a bit."

"And then what?"

"You get terrified."

Adrian rolled his eyes. "Seriously, David..."

"I'm perfectly serious." Draco leaned against the counter. "If it's real, it's a scary thing. I think the hardest part is knowing if it's real or not."

"How did you tell?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't rightly know. I still don't, really. But I want to help her, and not just myself, so that's got to be something. It's... complicated."

Adrian laughed and shook his head. "Somehow you make everything complicated."

"It's a gift," Draco replied cheerfully.

On the walk home, Ginny was quiet. "Did you look at what I bought you at all?" Draco finally asked her.

"No," she replied after a moment. She didn't look at him.

"Why not?"

"You shouldn't be buying me gifts. I don't deserve them."

"Think of it as homework."

"What?"

"I didn't buy them because I like spending money. I want you to read that book by Heraclitus. I want you to take one of those Muggle pens and write in that Muggle book. It's a journal. Your thoughts are all jumbled up, and it's about time you straightened them out."

Ginny stopped walking. "Are you mad? I can't keep a diary! You know what it's done!"

"It made you silent," Draco replied evenly. "It let you push everything away. You _let_ them ignore it, and you _let_ the pain consume you."

"I couldn't... You can't just stop something like that!" she said desperately. "It was _Tom Riddle!_ He's stronger than me!"

"You were eleven," Draco replied. He began walking again. After a moment, Ginny ran after him to catch up. "How old was he in the diary?"

"Sixteen," Ginny said softly. "Almost seventeen."

"He was smart," Draco guessed.

"A Prefect. He became Head Boy."

"Do you really think a firstie could've done anything about that? Do you really think you could have stopped him?"

"I should have..." Ginny began.

"How? You didn't even know magic yet. How could you have stopped it from happening?"

"I shouldn't have stolen it back. I shouldn't have wanted to keep that diary."

"He was your friend," Draco said softly. "Your best friend, the one you would do anything for. The one you wanted to love you." He grasped her hand tightly. "We do awful things in the name of love sometimes."

She was silent for a long time, but didn't pull her hand away. Draco would take his victories wherever they were, no matter how small.

"What are you afraid of?" Ginny asked once they were in his flat.

"Why? Want to get a boggart?"

She shook out her head and took out the pins in her hair. "You know what I'm afraid of. You know all about me." She stared at the floor. "I haven't any secrets left."

"You have the details," Draco offered. "I don't want those unless you want to tell me. You have your thoughts. There's plenty of you I don't know. I'm all right with that."

"So what are you afraid of?" she prodded.

"That Mother is dead," Draco admitted after a moment. "I lose track of time here a lot. I forget. Sometimes I forget my name wasn't always David Marsh." He gave her a fragile smile that she returned weakly. "Sometimes I'm afraid that she's dead and I'm really all alone in the world."

"You have Adrian. And Pansy."

"They're not my Mum, and they never will be," he said simply.

Ginny looked down at the floor again. "I know both of my parents are dead. I know where my brothers are."

"Count yourself lucky."

"I don't know where Trent is. I hear his voice in my mind all the time. And Tom, whispering. I carry them with me all the time."

Draco lifted her chin with a finger. "That's why I got you the journal. Write it down. _Look_ at what they tell you. Look at what I hear."

"Why? It'll only hurt me," she whispered.

"You can't run all the time," Draco replied. He traced her lips with his fingertips. "You can't be afraid all the time. You have to learn to let it go."

"I don't know how," she whispered brokenly.

"I know."

"I don't know if I want to," she confessed.

"Maybe you never will. But while I'm at work, that's what I want you to do. That's your only job right now."

"Why do you hurt me like this?" she asked softly, moving toward the bathroom.

"It's not me," Draco told her, voice level and almost dead. "This is how you hurt yourself. This is how you keep them with you."

She whirled around, eyes flashing and lips compressed into a thin line. "They hurt me! They made me do things... They didn't care about me!"

"You loved them," Draco said simply, voice devoid of emotion. "You loved them and would do anything for them. You were devoted to the love they promised to give you, and it's easier to think you were the one at fault when it goes wrong. It's easier to think you're filthy, that you'd invited them to take advantage of you..."

She launched herself at him angrily, shouting the vilest of curses. Draco was impressed by her knowledge of such filthy language, of the depths of rage she had been able to conjure up. She hit him hard about the chest and arms, shouting that he didn't love her, didn't know her, didn't know the truth and could never understand it.

Ginny dissolved into tears, her fists making more ineffectual strikes. Draco still made no move to stop her. "I hate you," she sobbed. "I shouldn't _feel._ I'm not supposed to feel, I'm not supposed to want. Everything I've ever wanted was destroyed. Everything I've ever had is broken and ruined. Everyone I love is tainted. I'm awful. I'm poison, I'm fucking poison. I'm cursed." She bawled, her fists remaining on his chest. "Everything hurts," she sobbed, collapsing against his chest. "Everything hurts."

Draco wrapped his arms around her. "I know."

"I don't know how to begin."

"I know."

"I hate you."

Draco's gut twisted, but he didn't outwardly respond. "I know."

"I hate myself. I hate what I've done, I hate what they made me do."

"I know."

"I hate myself for being so bloody weak."

"I know," Draco whispered softly. He stroked her hair. Once upon a time, he would have shied away from such contact. He would have shunned emotion, avoided dealing with it. He had been superficial and cold. Even after being in Wales, some of that still remained. Some part of him would always be capable of cruelty. He knew this, and knew it was as natural to him as breathing. He wasn't a kind man. He wasn't a good man. He had only become involved with Ginny because he was bored, and thought her secrets would entertain him. He had thought she would never matter to him.

"Why do you put up with me?" she whispered, clutching him tightly. "I'm so awful to you, and you don't even deserve it."

"Sure, I do. Some of it. I'll be all right."

"I've hurt you," she whispered in awe. "How was I able to hurt you? I'm nobody special."

_To me you are,_ Draco thought. He kept stroking her hair. "You can be," he said instead.

"I've thrown it away. I ruined everything."

"Not everything. There's still hope. There's always hope."

"Why? I don't deserve that after all I've done. I don't deserve any kindness from you." Ginny turned her head, pressing her face against his neck. "I don't deserve anything good in my life. I deserve to be punished. I don't deserve you."

"Maybe I'm your punishment," Draco offered. "Maybe I'm how you repent."

She stilled. "I can never be redeemed."

"Maybe you can start over. Isn't that why you're here?"

"I'm hiding. Trent destroyed me as surely as Tom did. I should've let them kill me. All I do is run away and hide. I never do the right thing."

Draco closed his eyes. He had hid himself away as well, had distanced himself from everyone. It had taken him almost a year to really trust Adrian. It had been months before the shadows stopped making him panic. He hadn't done the right thing all the time. He was selfish and greedy, annoying and cruel. He was capable of more. That was one lesson he had definitely learned his sixth year at Hogwarts. He wasn't the best and wasn't any kind of saint, but he was capable of more than he thought he could ever be.

"Start now," Draco finally said. "This place is a fresh start, with new people and new things to do. It's a new place to be. You can be whoever you want to be. You just have to choose who that is," he said, voice soft.

"And if I don't know that yet? What then?"

"You've all the time in the world," Draco assured her. "There's no hurry in this. There's no need to rush things along before you're ready."

"Why are you being so patient with me? Why are you trying so hard?"

_Because someone has to. Because somebody should have done it already. Because someone did for me, and I'm better for it,_ Draco thought. "You need help," he said finally. "This is one thing I know I can help you with."

"But _why?_ I'm not worth the effort."

Draco pulled away from her and looked her in the eyes. "I didn't think I was worth it, once. Somebody thought I was, and took the time to help me. I know I can help you, and I know it can get better."

"You don't love me," she whispered brokenly.

_I could,_ Draco thought, his stomach sinking. _I really could love you, if I don't already._

"You can't love me," she continued when Draco didn't speak. "You can't love something ruined."

"Sure you can. People do all the time."

"I'm horrible. I'll only bring you pain."

"Yes, you will."

"You should love Alanna. She'll never hurt you."

"She's not what I want," Draco replied evenly. "Maybe once I would've gone after her. But she's not what I want any longer."

"What do you want?"

Draco's lips quirked into a self deprecating smile. "Complicated. I don't want easy. I don't want simple. That's not real, and that's not worth keeping."

"Complicated is painful."

"Maybe," Draco admitted. "But I won't ignore it."

She blinked slowly. "You surprise me all the time. I don't know what to do about you."

"Feel," he said softly. He turned and went to the bathroom to begin to wash up for bed. Ginny followed and stood in the doorway hesitantly. "What?"

"You scare me," she whispered, looking as if she had cut off her own hand to admit it.

_You scare me, too,_ Draco thought. "It'll be all right."

"How do you _know?"_ she asked anxiously.

"It has to change sometime," Draco murmured. "Now's as good a time as any. I'll understand what happened, and I'll always accept it."

"I can't."

"It's time to learn," he replied, putting toothpaste on his toothbrush. "You're safe with me."

"I shouldn't be."

"You always will be."

"I'll hurt you. It's what I do."

"I know. Maybe you'll learn to change it."

"You deserve somebody better than me."

"I want you." Draco put down his toothbrush. "I know what you've done and what you think of yourself. I know what you do to yourself. I know how much you hate yourself. I know all this and I don't care about it. None of that matters to me. You're _real._ You're _alive,_ in a way that girls like Alanna can never be. Yes, you're broken. Yes, you loathe every bit of yourself that you can name. You're still real, and you're still what I want."

She watched him brush his teeth, her eyes wide.

"You care." Draco nodded warily. "You love me," she whispered. She clasped her hands together as her eyes began to fill with tears. "I don't know how to love anyone."

"Start with yourself," he replied gently. He left the bathroom and went to bed. After washing up, Ginny joined him. She reluctantly kissed his cheek.

"I don't know if I can be good anymore."

"I'll settle for okay and good enough."

"That's not right. You deserve better."

"So do you."

Uncomfortably, Ginny settled into bed next to him. "Good night," she whispered.

"Good night," Draco replied, draping an arm around her.

Uneasily, they both slept.

***  
***


	10. Determination

_You see I've finally woken  
From a long sleep  
I'm ready to jump  
To make that blind leap  
Coz I now believe  
I have the power in me  
I've got the faith baby  
I can truly be free_  
Jem, "Finally Woken"

 

Draco began to teach Ginny Welsh that weekend, and he took out some of the books he had used. Ginny didn't look at the bag with the journal, focusing on the language lessons. Draco worked a half day on Saturday and not at all on Sunday, which left a lot of time alone with Ginny. She avoided any deep discussion, and wouldn't meet his eyes when he tried to start one.

On Monday, Adrian and Pansy stopped by the apothecary. "Oi, mate. Can you lock up for lunch today?" Adrian asked cheerfully.

Draco grinned at Adrian. "Of course. Where are we off to?"

"Shall we pick up your girl?" he asked instead. Pansy wandered off to look at the multicolored bottles on the shelves.

Draco's grin faltered slightly. "Can I talk to you about that? Tomorrow, maybe? Hey, Pans. Think you can stomach it to spend lunch with Ginny tomorrow?"

She turned and lifted an eyebrow at him. "Trouble in paradise already?" Draco pulled a face at her, and she laughed at his distress. "Oh, all right. I'll teach her how to dress or do makeup or something appropriate like that."

Lunch was lighthearted. Draco had forgotten what Pansy had been like, and it had been a while since Adrian's last visit. Lunch was over too soon, and Draco returned to work while Adrian and Pansy wandered off.

When he returned home, Draco was surprised to see dinner waiting for him. He noted that Ginny had opened a package of pens, and the diary was resting on the coffee table. He didn't mention it. They ate in relative silence. Draco would occasionally ask her to name things in Welsh, but he avoided any heavy topics.

"You didn't ask me about the diary," Ginny murmured as she cleared the dishes away.

"If you want me to know what you wrote about, you'd show me. If you're not ready for that, it's okay, too."

She looked relieved, but didn't say anything. Though he had learned Ligelimency and Occlumency before he left Hogwarts, Draco hadn't practiced since. There had been no need. He almost regretted that now, because he would have wanted to know her thoughts. She was closed in on herself, internalizing everything. He didn't want to guess at her feelings or be afraid that something he did would trigger a bad memory.

"Talk to me," Draco said. He couldn't stand the silence in his flat any longer. He wanted her voice in it.

Ginny turned from the sink. "There's nothing left to say. You know what I think. You know what I feel."

"Do I really? Aren't you still hiding yourself away?" She flinched but remained silent. Draco left the counter and came to her side. "It doesn't matter if you have. I don't care. Keep the details. Keep the secrets. Just don't shut me out and think it's okay."

"You want a real relationship," she said dully.

"Considering that I fuck you every night, I don't think that's too much to ask," Draco said bluntly. Her face was deathly pale, every freckle standing out. Draco traced the curve of Ginny's cheek with a finger. "Don't you want more than just the physical?"

"That's safer."

"That wasn't my question."

She took a step back. "I don't know what I want."

"Bollocks. You just can't tell me. You know what you want. You know what you need and how to get it. You just don't know how to ask for it."

Her cheeks flamed. "It's... It's dirty to want it so much," she whispered. "I shouldn't want it."

Draco closed the gap between them. He braced his hands on the counter, on either side of her. "Want what? Do you want me to keep fucking you? Or do you mean spanking your bottom first? Or do you want me to tie you up?" His voice had dropped to a husky tone. "What do you want me to do, Ginny? What do you need?"

She shivered under his intense gaze. "All of it," she whispered brokenly. "I don't want to want it, but I liked it when you held me down last night. I liked it rough."

"Now we're getting somewhere," Draco murmured, licking his lips. "Oh, I'm going to like this."

She looked at him, startled. "What?"

"These are fun games to play," Draco said as he caressed her breast through her blouse. "We can start right now. But we'll need a safe word."

"Safe word?" she echoed weakly.

"We don't want it to be too much, right? And I don't want you thinking I'm that bastard when I'm inside you. So we'll pick a word to use when it's too much and you want the game to end."

"It's not a game," Ginny said, eyes flashing with anger.

Draco pinched her nipple roughly, and she gasped in pleasure. "It's a game, and every game has rules. And if we're going to play this game, we're to set the rules first. So pick a word."

She looked panicked. "I can't."

"Pick a word. Anything, and I'll know to stop."

"What if I don't want you to stop?" she whispered, horrified.

"Then don't say it, and the game goes on."

Ginny closed her eyes and leaned back against the counter. "Clock," she said finally.

"Clock. All right."

"There was a family clock," Ginny began uncertainly as she opened her eyes. "All of us had a hand, to let the others know where we were."

"I'd heard of those."

"I broke it just before Mum died. Trent didn't want them to know where I was or if I was in trouble or not."

Draco pressed his body against hers. "Where are you now?"

She looked up at him, biting her lip. "I... I don't know."

"Sure, you do. Your first thought."

Ginny shut her eyes again, and tears slipped out from beneath her lashes. "Home."

He gathered her up in his arms as she began to cry. "You're safe here," he murmured. "That's why. Home is where you're safe. It's where you're protected."

"I don't want to leave," Ginny whispered, clutching his shirt in her hands. "I don't want Luna to make me. I want to stay. I hurt less here."

It wasn't quite the admission he had expected, but it warmed him just the same. "I want you to stay," he whispered. He stroked her gently. "I like it with you here."

"I'm so awful," she said after a moment, sniffling.

"Why?"

"I've no loyalty to anyone. I'm faithless."

Draco traced her spine with one hand. "Have you fucked anyone else?" She shook her head. "Have you killed anyone?" She shook her head again, not meeting his eyes. "Do you plan to?" She shook her head. "So why are you faithless?"

"I don't feel like my real home is my home. I left my family behind. It's awful."

"The house you had with Trent?" Ginny nodded. "That's not a home. That's a prison. So it's all right for you not to miss it. And he punished you if you went near your family, right?" Ginny nodded again. "So that was fear."

"I should've been better."

"You can be now," Draco murmured. He kissed the top of her head. "You can learn."

"I was good once. I was somebody once."

"I remember," Draco murmured. "It's all right."

"Why are you so nice to me?"

"Somebody should be."

"I was so _angry_ all the time."

"I remember." Draco pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. "I remember." He kissed her, long and deep, his tongue sliding into her mouth. His hands dropped down her back to cup her buttocks. He pulled her tight against him as he deepened the kiss even further.

Ginny broke the kiss to gulp in a breath of air. "I can't think straight," she gasped. "You make me so dizzy."

"Then let's take it to bed," he said. He led her by the hand to the bedroom. He laid her down and pulled her arms up over her head. Draco pulled his wand out of his night stand and bound her with silk ties to the headboard. "You can stop it anytime," he murmured.

Ginny gave an experimental tug on her wrists and seemed satisfied. "It feels okay."

"Good." Draco stretched out on top of her and kissed her again. Her mouth opened beneath his, and his tongue touched hers. It was tentative at first, then more insistent. He had one arm propping him up above her, and his other traced her thigh. He pushed her legs apart and settled between them. His fingers brushed over her panties, tracing her folds through the cloth.

When Draco broke the kiss, he moved to her neck. He nipped her ear playfully, then adjusted himself so that he was sitting on his haunches. He unbuttoned her blouse and stripped her of her panties easily. He rolled her skirt up around her waist, baring her to his view. His eyes traveled over her hungrily, and then he leaned down again. He sucked on a breast through her bra. He sucked harder when he heard her gasp of pleasure, and brough his hand to her thighs. He stroked the insides of her thighs, then again traced her folds. He sucked harder, and found her clitoris. He traced circles over it lazily, and her cries increased in volume. She was slick and wet, growing ever more ready for him.

He stripped quickly and plunged into her deeply, strokes hard and sure. She panted, back arched, crying out as every thrust hit home. He moved fast and hard, his hands tight on her hips. He groaned as her body began to clench around his, and he thrust even harder.

Draco came soon after she did, her body milking him dry. He traced her rib cage as her breathing slowed, then released her arms. "Mm... I like this game. We should play it more often," he murmured, collapsing on top of her.

"I... I didn't need the safe word," Ginny said in awe.

"Oh? And why do you think that is?"

"I knew you'd stop if I did. You would, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," Draco replied, hearing the rising anxiety in her voice. "That's the rule."

"I'm not scared of you... not about that. You'd stop if I wanted you to, but I didn't want you to."

"All right, then," Draco murmured, tracing the edge of her lip. "It's safe here. You know that by now, surely."

She nodded. "I do feel safe here." Tears pricked her eyes. "Why does it feel like you care more for me than Trent did?"

"Maybe I do," he replied softly.

Troubled, they went to sleep.

***

Adrian eyed Draco's nervous movements as he ordered about his table settings. "All right. Out with it now."

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Draco said without preamble, hands finally falling still. "This whole situation is out of hand."

_"What_ situation?" he asked. "You're dating the girl."

"Not really. Just shagging and trying to keep her from being so damned depressed." Draco sighed when he saw Adrian's eyebrows rise. "She'd gone to the same school as Pansy and I, but a year behind us. We'd never interacted with her much, and it turns out she'd been horribly abused."

Adrian sighed. "You like making things complicated, don't you? So why not just cut her loose?"

"Did I mention she's the best I'd ever had?"

Adrian choked on his drink. "David! I do _not_ need to know this about your girl!"

"It's..." Draco sighed. "There's something my father did that led to her being used in a dark magic ritual. It warped her mind, I suppose. She was in a horrid relationship during the war, and I think it's because of what happened when she was a firstie."

"So this isn't love either. It's obligation. It's trying to seek absolution. If you save her from herself, you can be forgiven in your part of what happened."

Draco nodded slowly. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm just confused by all this."

"Sounds like it. Do you even care for her? Or is it all about your own need to be forgiven?"

"I don't know. I think I care. I don't want her to call herself a filthy trollop. I don't want her having nightmares."

Adrian rolled his eyes. "Congratulations, David, you're human after all. Of _course_ you don't want those things. It's normal decency. I'm talking about more than that. Has it even come close to being a real relationship?"

"What's that? I don't think I'd ever seen one," Draco replied honestly. "My parents didn't talk of anything important in front of me. I don't know if Mum was aware of some of the things my father had done."

Adrian shook his head sadly. "And they wondered why those Death Eater fellows were heartless. They never learned how to communicate properly."

"So how's that done?" Draco asked.

"Talk to her. Not _at_ her. Do you talk to her?"

"Kind of." Draco flushed. "I tune out the depressed part or talk over her."

"What do you want out of the relationship?"

"I don't know. I just... I suppose I want more than what I've got now."

"So you want something real," Adrian replied. He looked at Draco sadly. "You want something that will last, and someone who will be there completely. Like my parents before Da died."

Draco frowned. "Honestly, Adrian. D'you think I can even have that? Or am I too much of a selfish bastard?"

Adrian laughed brightly. "The fact that you even care enough to ask means you're not nearly as selfish as you're afraid you are. You're no saint, but you're not the hopeless case that you think you are."

"That's a relief," Draco muttered. "It doesn't change anything with Ginny."

"How long have the two of you been together?"

"Two weeks."

Adrian snorted. "It can take _years,_ David. My parents had almost twenty-eight years when Da died. That kind of thing doesn't happen overnight."

"It doesn't?"

"Oh, no. Mum and Da had some terrific rows when I was younger. It happens. But they talked it out after and they worked at it. That's what made it last."

"I think she stays because it's convenient."

"That's not what I saw."

"What did you see?"

"Something's there. It's odd, for sure. I thought it was more than two weeks' worth of time that made it get that way. There's an ease there, a comfort around you that isn't around anyone else. I thought it was months or years or something like that."

"She said I made her feel safe," Draco mused.

"That must be it. That's a big thing for girls. Remember Justine Warrington?"

Draco snorted. "That tart? She's hard to forget."

Adrian smiled wanly. "Maybe. But the thing I remember is what you didn't see. She said she felt comfortable with me, the she knows she could trust me with everything. It's a big thing to them."

"Everything? What'd she trust you with?"

Adrian sighed. "She wasn't as big a tart as everyone thought she was," he hedged. "So she trusted me with that."

Draco's eyes widened. "You were her first?"

"I didn't tell you that," Adrian warned.

"But she... and... Well, that's not right."

Adrian laughed as Draco sputtered. "She never trusted you with a damn thing. Not like Ginny does," he added soberly.

Draco nodded slowly. "Maybe she knew I'd take it seriously."

"That's important."

"See, at first I was just bored. I wanted to know what her big secret was. And once I knew... I couldn't walk away. I haven't figured out why."

"You're not a heartless git, that's all."

Draco didn't rise to the usual joke. "What if I am? What if I break her even further?"

"You couldn't," Adrian replied firmly. "And if you did, Mum will skin you alive."

Draco nodded. "I'd let her, too."

Adrian eyed him warily. "How serious is this going?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

"It sounds serious. Like a forever kind of serious."

"I'd probably take care of her the best at this point. She said there was an awful kind of relief in having me know everything already. Probably because I haven't run screaming in the other direction yet."

Adrian pushed his plate to the side. "You've both fallen into something convenient. And maybe it's turned into something more."

"Um... Yeah. That's about right."

Adrian shook his head in disappointment. "Why do you always make things complicated? Nothing's simple for you."

"I don't think I'd appreciate something simple." Draco looked at his plate. "Life here is simple, but if the mess at Hogwarts hadn't happened, I wouldn't know how good this really is. If I don't have to work for it, I don't think as much of it." He looked up and shrugged.

"You're not the only one like that."

"I think it's the same way with Ginny."

Adrian shook his head. "You still have to talk to her."

"Probably."

_"Not_ probably. Definitely. Don't guess. If the poor girl's that broken, don't you dare guess. She deserves better than that, don't you think?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I know I'm not as selfless as she needs me to be."

"And you're not as selfish as you think you are."

Draco shrugged, a troubled look on his face. "I don't see this ending well, but I can't see it ending, either. I think that's why I'm so worried about this."

"So now what?"

Draco leaned back in his chair. "I don't know. I really don't know. There's a friend of hers that's going to visit this weekend. I plan on confronting her about what actually happened to Ginny's ex. She thinks he's still alive, but Pansy told me that he's dead. Since Luna's the one that sent Ginny here, she'd the one that would know for sure."

"Why does it matter?" Adrian asked quietly.

"She needs to know that he's dead. She'll stop worrying that he'll try to find her and kill her." Draco took a sip of his water. "Maybe she won't have nightmares anymore."

Adrian shook his head. "You're blind, David. But that's all right." He shrugged negligently. "Don't worry about what's going on between you and Ginny, all right? It doesn't have to have a name, and it doesn't have to have a specific start or stop date. That doesn't matter as much as you doing right by her."

"But what _is_ this?"

He looked at Draco with something almost like pity in his eyes. "David, there's all kinds of love, and all kinds of ways to show it. You love her. Just leave it at that."

Draco looked as if he had been slapped. "What?"

"You want her to love you back. But you can't _make_ anyone do anything. You can't make her feel something she won't. But she feels safe with you, and for somebody that's damaged, that might just be the same thing."

"I'm pathetic, aren't I?" Draco asked miserably.

"Yeah, mate. But every bloke can get that way because of a woman. It happens to everyone."

"It's about time for me to go back to work."

Adrian nodded and then pulled out money to cover his lunch. "I'll go collect Pansy, then. Just take it easy, David. There's no need to rush anything or name anything, okay? Just let everything happen as it does."

"I was never any good at that."

"I know, that's why I'm telling you."

Draco paid for his lunch and headed back to the shop. Clive eyed his sullen expression and watched as he went to the back workshop to cut and grind ingredients. "Never thought I'd see the day when you and the Rhys boy stopped being friends," Clive said from the doorway.

Draco looked up in surprise. "We're still friends."

"So why the long face?"

Clive was old. The ancient jokes in town never seemed to faze him, and he carried himself with dignity and an air of wisdom.

"It's... I'm having trouble figuring what exactly it is between me and Ginny. It's bothering me."

Clive nodded. "She's a pretty one, but fairly fragile if you look at her closely enough. But relationships aren't precise things like potions are. It's not a precise science. Even science at times isn't precise. Take those leaves you're grinding. They had a different name at once time. But when the error was discovered, its name was changed to properly reflect its origins."

"I don't understand what's happening between us," Draco admitted honestly. He put down his knife with a sigh.

"Do you have to?"

"It's better if I do."

"For who? You? Or her?" Draco frowned at the question. "In relationships, you have to think of the two of you in conjunction. You can't just think of yourself anymore," Clive explained patiently. "So for whose comfort is this naming?"

"Mine," Draco admitted after a moment.

"So let it go. It's new, whatever it is. Just leave it at that."

"I don't like not _knowing."_

Clive nodded sadly. "Sometimes we have no choice and have to accept things for what they are. Life isn't easy, David, but that's what makes it worthwhile."

Draco smiled at Clive. "Thank you."

"No problem. Now get back to work."

***  
***


	11. Admissions

_I know how you feel  
I'm feeling it too  
I hold my heart, I dream of you  
I see your face, I feel it, too...  
Take this and hold  
My love for you  
In separate times we think as two  
In paradise I'll drown in you  
Still searching skies  
I need you  
I want you_  
BT, "Remember"

 

Draco found Ginny writing in her diary. Purple ink in a purple book, the Heraclitus text open beside her. She looked up as he entered the flat, then abruptly shut the book. "You're late," she murmured, eyes wide and almost fearful. "What's happened?"

Draco frowned at her. "Clive kept me back a bit. Nothing to be afraid of. He wanted to have the inventory taken before the festival tomorrow. He thought perhaps the shop should close early so that we can attend." He shrugged. "He's always liked it." Draco sat down beside her on the couch and smiled. "It'll be nice to show you everything." He tugged playfully on a lock of her hair. It's more fun than the ordinary market."

Ginny looked down at the purple book in her hands. "I was almost afraid you weren't coming back again."

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "This is _my_ flat."

"Yes, but accidents happen. If... If you didn't come back..."

He traced the curve of her cheek. "Maybe you do care about me," he murmured softly. "Maybe this thing between us is mutual."

She looked almost horrified. "But it can't be... We can't..."

"Why can't we? Why not?"

Ginny's eyes watered. "I don't want to hurt you," she whispered. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me. I'm not worth it."

Draco pulled the diary from her hands and placed it on the coffee table. He dragged her into his lap and kissed her deeply. His tongue slid into her mouth as his arms wound around her. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, almost desperately. Draco slid his hands beneath the dark green shirt she was wearing, and was pleased to find out she was bare beneath it. He lightly pinched her nipples, making her moan.

Ginny pulled her mouth away. "What if this is all a lie? I can't do that anymore." She seemed close to tears. "I can't."

"I'm not lying," Draco murmured, stroking her hair. "Are you?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know anything anymore."

"You said you felt safe with me, right?" Draco waited until she nodded. "This is home, isn't it?" She nodded again. "Then it's not a lie. It's real enough, whatever this is."

"What is it, then?" she asked softly. "What is this?"

"I don't know." He cupped her face gently. "Merlin knows I've tried to put a name to this, but I can't. I don't know what this is, either. But I've decided that I don't care. It can be whatever it is, I don't have to name it."

"You scare me sometimes," she whispered, eyes searching his face frantically. "How can you be so sure?"

"This isn't a lie," Draco murmured, sliding his hands around her beneath her shirt.

"I'll destroy you."

"I can take it."

He kissed her, long and deep. Her mouth opened beneath his, allowing his tongue to slide into her mouth. Draco's hands circled from her front to her back. He traced her spine, feeling her shiver beneath his fingertips. Draco traced Ginny's ribs, then circled back to her front.

At Draco's urging, Ginny adjusted her position so that she straddled him instead of sitting across his lap. Draco pulled her skirt up so that he could touch her thighs, which made her shiver as well. He slid his hands around to touch the edge of her panties.

"You love me, don't you?" Ginny whispered. "You shouldn't."

"Maybe that's not what this is," Draco replied softly. He caressed her bottom as he kissed her, holding her closely. She ran her hands along his chest, looking at him in concern when the kiss ended. "This doesn't have to be anything. I think I'm all right with that now."

"Why? Why should you care?"

Draco traced the curve of her cheek. "We're safe together, aren't we? We're comfortable. We know all the bad things about each other. There's nothing to be afraid of, then. We already know the worst of it. It can't get worse than this."

"What if it does?" Ginny asked, lips trembling. "It always has before."

"We'll have each other to go through it." Draco smoothed her hair away from her face, and cradled the back of her head in his hands. "We'll be all right. You don't have to be afraid of this. I'm not them, and I never will be."

"They're all I know," she whispered. "What if you do change?"

"I give you permission to smack me," Draco replied brightly. When he saw her face darken in concern, he put his arms around her and pulled her close. He cradled her. "Did they ever do this?" She shook her head mutely. "So you know I'm already different. You can't deal with me the way you dealt with them."

Ginny stayed curled around Draco's torso. "I don't know how to be."

"S'okay. We'll both figure this out as we go along." She shivered in his arms. "Most people do it that way."

"I'm worried about tomorrow," she admitted.

"Luna's your friend," Draco murmured, stroking her back. "She's looking after you." He could feel her hands clench into fists at the nape of his neck. "What?"

"She left me here," she replied, voice tight and angry. "She took me from my home and she _left_ me. For _months,_ and she thinks a monthly visit is enough. I'm alone here... Until this month, I had nothing to do. I had nightmares all the time, and they got so bad I had to go to you. She didn't want to hear it when they started. She said I was just homesick."

"We know that's not true."

"She doesn't know me anymore. Nobody does."

Draco cradled her as she sobbed. "You've got me."

"You're all I have now."

"There's Adrian and Pans. And Alanna and Mrs. Rhys. If they're like my family, then they're like your family, now, too."

"I hate this," she whispered. "I hate it."

Draco rocked her gently. "Tell me."

"I can't stop crying. I can't stop _hating._ I'm horrid. I'm absolutely horrid. I don't know why you put up with me."

"You're not horrid," Draco replied evenly. "Sad and angry, yes. But you're not horrid. I wouldn't keep anyone horrid in my home, let alone in my bed." She shivered in his arms. "Come on, you. You've been worrying all night. Let's go out to dinner."

"I don't know..."

"C'mon. The Golden Ear is a good place, I promise."

"The Golden Ear?"

"I know. It sounds strange, but the food is great. You need some cheering up." He gave her a tight squeeze, then pushed her back a bit to look at her face. "Not too red."

"My hair will always be too red," she murmured sadly.

"Your _eyes,"_ Draco corrected, tugging on a lock of her hair. "Your eyes aren't so red and blotchy. So you don't need to wash up before we leave."

Ginny got up awkwardly. "I guess... I thought... I thought you were going to fuck me," she stammered, not able to meet his eyes.

Draco pulled her up against him, cupping her bottom. "Are you asking?" he leered. He spun her about in a circle, a grin on his face. "Eat first. We've got all night for sex, yeah?"

A blush rose up along her cheekbones. "All night?"

"Whatever you want to try, whatever you feel you need." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm game to try anything."

Her blush deepened. "I shouldn't... It's not right."

"Sure, it is," he replied easily. He squeezed her bottom playfully and grinned. "If we both want it, then it's right."

Ginny impulsively leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth, her tongue sliding in to taste his. "This is all I know."

"You'll learn," Draco said softly, cupping her face. "We both will."

"You don't need to learn anything. You know who you are."

"Alone, I do," Draco replied ruefully. He tugged on a lock of her hair affectionately. "I'm new at the relationship thing."

Ginny was deathly pale. "Is that what this is?"

"Any interaction between two people is a relationship," Draco hedged, leading her out of the flat. "It's just a word. No significance."

Dinner was a quiet affair. They returned to Draco's flat, and he kept up commentary about how he had learned Welsh when he first arrived in town. Ginny seemed to listen intently, but she didn't speak much. It looked as if dinner had drained her, as if it had taken excessive effort to be in public. Perhaps it had; she'd been isolated for months, and only in the past two weeks had she really had constant contact with others.

"Punish me," Ginny whispered after they had washed up for bed.

Draco paused, looking at her. "Why?"

"I shouldn't be nervous. I shouldn't be worried..."

"It's out of your control."

"I know!" Ginny exploded, voice spiraling up in hysteria. "I don't control a damn thing. I never did! Nothing's up to me. I never decide anything!"

Draco crossed the room and stood in front of her. "What do you want? Control or to be controlled? You only get to do one at a time."

She crumbled before his eyes. "I don't know," she moaned. "I really don't know. I can't handle either one."

Draco undressed her silently. Once done, he looked at her expectantly. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Undress me," he commanded, voice harsh.

She hurried to obey, running her hands and lips over his pale skin. Her mouth hovered near his navel as she pulled down his pants. Ginny nuzzled his groin, the tip of her nose tracing small circles within the crisp, curling hair around his cock. Draco stepped out of his clothes, watching her bent head curiously. She licked the length of him, and dropped feathery kissed all along the skin. Her hands stroked his buttocks slowly, then took him into her mouth. She sucked on him gently, gradually increasing the pressure. Her head bobbed as she moved, the head of his cock sliding across her tongue into the hollow of his cheeks.

Abruptly, she stopped and sat back on her haunches, looking up at him with unreadable eyes. "You need to fuck me hard. Make it cruel and punish me."

Draco grasped the hair at the back of her head in his fist. "I'll fuck your mouth first," he growled. He took no pleasure in the bolt of fear that shot through her eyes. He pulled her head toward his erect cock, and she opened her mouth. Draco kept Ginny's head in place with both hands. She kept herself steady by grasping his hips for balance. He savagely fucked her mouth, making deep thrusts along the length of her tongue. The head of his cock brushed across her palate before nearly hitting the back of her throat. He could feel her fingers tighten on his hips, and he gave a throaty moan. "Yes... fuck, yes, Ginny... Merlin, your mouth... I need to fuck your mouth..."

Ginny shifted her grip so that her fingers pressed into the flesh of his buttocks. Her nails scratched his skin lightly, and Draco groaned. He thrust harder and deeper into her mouth. "Fuck, yes... Ginny, make me come," Draco moaned, head thrown back in pleasure. She sucked on him hard as he thrust, his groans growing louder. Unable to bear the blinding pleasure, Draco arched slightly, pulling her head even closer to his groin. His seed spilled down her throat as he came with a startled cry.

Draco fell back onto the bed afterward, limbs splayed. "Merlin, that was amazing."

She got up on the bed next to him, kneeling and looking down at him. "You liked that."

"Gods, yes." Draco reached for her, hands closing over her hips. "You smell like sex," he said, his voice almost a moan. She looked startled, almost insulted. "Turn over. I want to taste you as you make me hard again."

Cheeks flaming, she straddled his head, knees near his shoulders. She leaned forward and began to lick his limp cock, teasing him to awareness. Draco grasped her hips in his hands and pulled her wet slit closer to his mouth. He ran his tongue along her dripping folds, then delved into the core of her. He licked her, lapping up her juices. As Ginny took him into her mouth, he closed his lips over her swollen clit. She gasped, nearly choking on his hardening cock. She moaned, the vibrations humming all around his member. Draco tightened his grip on her hips, balancing her. He licked and sucked her clit, moving faster and harder as her cries grew louder. When Ginny raised her head to gasp for air, his half-hard cock slid from her mouth. She pressed her face to his thigh, panting in pleasure.

Draco sucked harder on her clit when she took him into her mouth again. He enjoyed the sound of her passion, the taste of her on his tongue, the scent of her skin lingering. His grip on her was tight, almost punishing and his tongue thrust in and out of her aching slit. He could feel her body tighten as she approached climax. Draco moved faster, and Ginny gave a cry when she came. Draco pushed a finger inside of her, feeling the grasping, rippling muscles pull at him. He sucked on her clit again, his finger moving in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck me," Ginny panted, her hot breath panting across the skin of his cock. It twitched in response. "Fuck me hard. Make it cruel. Fuck me."

Draco slid a second finger inside her, his thumb brushing against her aching clit. His other hand had her buttock in a tight grip. "I won't be cruel. I'll never be cruel. I'll fuck you, as hard as you want, as dirty as you want. I'll fuck you until you beg me to stop," he panted, keeping a steady and almost punishing rhythm. "You belong to me."

Ginny moaned as she came, spasming around his fingers. "Yes," she moaned, back arching and breasts dragging over his abdomen. "Yes, yes. Everything... Merlin, I need you to fuck me now." Draco's fingers continued, his breath hot against her moist copper curls. "I need it," she panted. "I need your cock in me," Ginny moaned. "Fuck me hard."

"Suck my cock," Draco commanded, nipping her clit with his lips. She squealed, then bent her head to take him into her mouth. Draco licked her wet folds, his fingers still thrusting into her hot depths. He closed his lips around her clit and tugged. With a muffled cry, Ginny came again. His cock slid along her tongue as she writhed above him, and Draco's lips tightened around her clit. She gave a cry, then drew more of his cock into her mouth. She shifted slightly, reaching between his spread legs to stroke his balls. "Yes... Fuck, yes," Draco moaned. "Harder... Suck on me harder..."

When he grew hard and thick enough, he withdrew his fingers from her dripping slit. "Now I'll fuck you," he said. Ginny moved away in time to watch him suck the taste of her from his fingers. "Ride me, Gin," he moaned, reaching for her.

She climbed on top of him eagerly, and guided him into her. Ginny gave a satisfied sigh to feel him slide into her aching slit. "Ah... You feel so good," she moaned.

Draco grasped her hips as she began to rock against him. She was slick and hot, a velvet fist squeezing ever tighter as the pleasure mounted. "Yes, like that," he moaned. She panted, head thrown back as she rode him hard. She came with a cry, and nearly collapsed as her sheath pulsed around him. "Gin, on your knees."

She obeyed without question, her coordination awkward. Draco knelt behind her, then thrust into her. She moaned, catching the sheets in her fists. Draco thrust quickly, deeply. "You feel so good," she panted. "Oh, right there."

Her body tightened, and Draco grit his teeth to keep from coming too soon. "Gods, Ginny..." he moaned. She came with a cry, and it sent Draco tumbling down to his own orgasm.

They collapsed onto the bed, sweaty limbs tangled together.

"Still think I need to be cruel?" Draco asked, brushing her hair from her face. He smiled as he stroked her cheek.

"Maybe not," she admitted in a soft voice.

"We'll be all right, Gin," Draco murmured, tracing the curve of her lips. "We'll take care of each other, I know it."

"You really think so?"

Draco watched as she took the tip of his finger into her mouth, her tongue running over the sensitive pad of his fingertip. "We fit, Ginny. Maybe we were meant for each other. I don't think we'd have appreciated each other if we hadn't suffered first. You only appreciate what you earn."

Ginny looked at him with troubled eyes. "Tom used to say that a lot."

Draco traced her cheek. "And so did my mother."

"What would Luna think of us?" she whispered fearfully.

"She's your friend. She should just want to see you happy. Aren't you already happier than you were with Trent?"

She thought about it, and Draco could almost see the wheels turning in her head. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Then she should be happy for you." Draco leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Good night, Gin. Sweet dreams."

"Good night," she murmured, snuggling up next to him.

For the second straight week, there were no nightmares.

***  
***


	12. Resolution

_I've been thinking 'bout things  
For a long while  
I'm feeling so calm  
I've got a big smile  
I have a view of the sun  
Right over the sea  
And now I can feel  
Life is flowing through me_  
Jem, "Finally Woken"

 

Ginny's hands shook slightly as she got dressed. She was wearing a light green shirt and jeans; Draco liked to think the green was because of him. She pulled her hair back into a French braid, doing it manually. It was difficult for her to even pick up her wand, much less use it. Draco made her carry it in her sleeve, hoping she would grow accustomed to it. He noticed that she didn't flinch anymore, and considered it a start.

"What if she notices?" Ginny asked, not looking at Draco.

"Notices what?"

"Anything. She's smart. She'll know something's different."

Draco got up from the bed and wrapped his arms around her. "You decide how much to tell her."

"I don't know if I want to tell her anything."

"So don't."

"She'll know if I lie."

"No need to lie," Draco murmured against the skin of her neck. "Even if she could guess, you don't have to tell her."

"That's still lying."

Draco caught her earlobe between his teeth and gave a gentle tug. "You don't have to reveal everything. Just talk about whatever it is you talk about. I'll meet up with you after, and we'll go through the Festival together. Sound like a plan?"

Ginny nodded slowly. "I meet Luna for lunch, usually."

"All right. I'll meet you after."

When he let go, Ginny turned to look at him. "How do you know that I won't turn you in to Luna? How do you know I won't betray you?"

"You won't," Draco replied confidently. "This is home. You would never betray a place that felt like home."

Her expression was unreadable, and she was silent. She left the flat without looking back.

Draco worked three hours that morning, mostly tidying up the shop. Very few of the town's citizens needed anything on a Saturday, and even fewer needed anything on a Festival Saturday. The work kept his mind off of Ginny, and what her nervousness might lead to. Luna was her friend, but she was also an Unspeakable. She also left Ginny in a tiny Welsh village, and had very quietly eliminated Trent. Wizarding England thought Ginny was to blame for the death. No one would suspect Luna. It was likely that no one knew of any ties from Trent to Luna, especially if he had kept Ginny hidden away. That was rather Slytherin of her, really.

He wandered through the Festival setup, greeting the neighbors he knew. The town square was decorated with flowers and ribbons, banners and booths. The band was setting up behind the podium where the Mayor would begin his speech and officially begin the Festival.

Draco bumped into Eselda near one of the pastry booths. She grabbed his arm. "My dear boy, how wonderful to see you! And here, I was afraid it would be deadly dull."

"A Festival is never dull, Eselda," Draco chided playfully. He grinned at her and nodded at the booth. "Pastry?"

"Oh, no! Too many will ruin my girlish figure," she joked, patting her ample stomach. "I will allow you to squire me about until we see your charming young lady." Draco nodded, at a loss for words. "I must say, she's very pretty. Such striking coloring to her hair. And the freckles. She looks so very cute. What was her name again?"

"Ginny."

"Lovely name. Virginia?"

"Ginevra."

"Even better. Much more regal."

"I think so."

"She's so very quiet," Eselda commented after a moment.

"She's new to town. I think she'll adjust in time."

"This is very true. It took you a year or so to really adjust, I think. You seemed so scared of your shadow when you first arrived. You've opened up since then. Clive and the Rhys family have been good to you."

"They're like family," Draco replied simply. Eselda nodded, approving. He thought he saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. "Speaking of which, I think I see Ginny now."

Eselda laughed brightly. "Oh, I can tell when I'm not wanted, young man. Do stop by the shop more often. You've been keeping to yourself a lot lately."

"You could also come into the apothecary and visit us, too. I think Clive might like that."

Her laughter was infectious. "Oh, look at you! What a little matchmaker you are."

Draco smiled. "Well, not really."

"Well, you go on and see your girlfriend. I'm sure we'll see each other later today."

"Of course. And we'll stop by the shop, Eselda."

"Lovely. Happy Festival!"

He returned the sentiment and went off toward the flash of red he had seen. Ginny had been nervous, and Luna was an Unspeakable. Trent was dead, and Ginny didn't know that.

Draco wove through the crowds, looking for red hair and a light green shirt. He saw many people he knew; before Ginny had moved in, he hadn't given much thought to the town. It had become a home, but he didn't pay much attention to it. Now that he was thinking about it, he knew a lot of people here. He had been somewhat friendly, and they all responded in kind. He was comfortable here in a way that he had never been at Hogwarts, even though he had also known a lot of the people there. Home here in town meant something completely different than it had before. Here, home was a comfortable place he looked forward to returning to. It was a haven, a sanctuary that was all his own. Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor had long since stopped feeling like a home he could return to. It was surprising how little he missed them now.

Draco found her seated at one of the cafés near the central square. Luna was paying the check, yammering on about whatever it was that she usually talked about. He edged closer, but stopped when they got up. Ginny was looking down at a shrunken box in garish wrapping. She lagged behind Luna slightly, looking for all the world like a chastised puppy behind her master. He found himself gritting his teeth and clenching his fists.

"The children are doing well," Luna was saying, a soft and dreamy smile on her face. "They look so much like Bill, except for Christabel. She looks like Fleur." Luna didn't seem aware of Ginny's silence, or she was ignoring it and pretending that all was well.

"I'm glad for them," Ginny murmured.

"Oh, and I'm pregnant," Luna said suddenly, clapping her hands. "It's been lovely so far, thought I do have to be sure that the chatterbees don't come close enough to feed. There's so much to do, so much to prepare for. This is such an exciting time for us, Ginny."

"Oh."

"I do wish there was a safe way for you to return home. I do want you to there to see your new niece or nephew. Or both, perhaps. You never know, after all."

Draco could see Ginny shrink in on herself. She was pulling away, coiling around the center of pain she held. Luna didn't seem to notice, or once again she was ignoring it and pretending that all was well. He felt his temper rising sharply. He wanted to grab Luna by her shoulders and shake her. He wanted to shout at her _You're supposed to be her friend. You're supposed o be smart. Don't you know anything? Don't you know how you're torturing her?_

"When do you think that might be?" Ginny asked, voice dull and flat. Somehow, Luna didn't notice it at all.

"Well, I'm not sure." Luna stopped walking, and Ginny stopped beside her. Draco was a few feet behind them.

"Why not? What's really stopping me from Apparating back to London and going home?"

Luna's eyes widened. "Well, you haven't a wand, for one."

Ginny pulled back her sleeve. "I have one now. It fits me much better than the old one ever did."

Luna's eyes sharpened almost uncomfortably. "When did you get that? Why did you? You never wanted to do magic before. What changed?"

"I want to go home, Luna," Ginny said, voice hard and cold.

Luna's jaw tightened. "Something's changed you. You don't even speak the same anymore."

_Now she says what she thinks,_ Draco thought. _She's not telling you what she thinks you want to hear. That's one thing she definitely learned from me. It's all right to speak her mind, and she won't be punished for it._

"Why haven't you found Trent?" Ginny asked. "You're clever. You're more clever than he ever was. You should have found him by now, and I should be able to go home."

"Ginny, it's complicated," Luna replied with a sigh.

"Tell me. You always brush me off."

Draco stepped forward, not liking the sad defeat in her voice. "Yes, Lovegood. Tell us why you haven't found him yet."

Ginny whirled around, face pale and eyes large with fright. Luna looked at him levelly, as if weighing him. He likely came up wanting.

She looked at Ginny, at her pale face. "You're not surprised to see him here."

"Go on, Lovegood. Tell her where Trent is. Go on."

Her gaze was crystal bright and uncomfortable, but Draco stood up under it with his head held high. He'd been through worse. "You were hiding here this whole time. No one killed you, least of all Harry. Professor Snape hid you here." Draco didn't bother to reply. She was a smart woman, after all. "I wonder who else he's hidden in his secret locations. Or if he'd even revealed them all to the Order."

"Quite possibly not," Draco replied cheerfully. "He didn't like you lot, either."

If looks could kill, Draco would be a dead man.

"Luna, where's Trent?" Ginny asked, her voice whisper soft.

"You can't know," Luna replied, voice flat.

Ginny seemed to deflate somewhat, her skin as pale as paper. Every freckle stood out in sharp relief, and Draco was afraid she would faint.

"Why?" she whispered brokenly. "Luna, you're my friend."

"Exactly. That's exactly why."

"Tell her," Draco insisted, coming up behind Ginny. He touched her back lightly in support. "Tell her what really happened to that bastard."

"You told him?" Luna asked Ginny incredulously. "You told _him_ when you couldn't tell your own family? If I hadn't figured it out, you might be dead by now."

"He knew," Ginny whispered. "He already knew."

"Poppycock!" Luna hissed. "Don't lie to _me."_

"You shouldn't lie, either," Draco said mildly, stepping in when Ginny was unable to speak. She was falling apart in front of him, afraid of what Luna might say. She was so much more ruthless than he thought her capable of. Being an Unspeakable had changed Luna Lovegood. Or perhaps the war had changed her so that she _could_ become an Unspeakable. Either way, she wrapped herself up in a cloak of secrets that hid the sharp edges she had now. Luna Lovegood wasn't the delightfully dotty girl that she had been in school.

Everyone had changed so much, it was hard to see where they had come from.

"You stay out of this. You don't belong here."

Draco stepped forward. "Tell her, Lovegood. Tell her the real reason why she can't go back to London. Tell her why Trent hasn't been found. Tell her."

"What aren't you telling me?" Ginny whispered.

Luna's jaw was set. She was refusing to speak.

"What have you done to him?" Ginny asked, fear lacing her voice. Draco could feel her tremble beneath his hand. "Luna, what have you done?"

"Oh, shut it," Luna snapped. "You don't know what had to be done, so don't you dare take that tone with me."

"Luna?" Ginny whispered, stunned.

"You couldn't do a damned thing, so _someone_ had to take care of things for you. I should be asking _you_ why you changed into such a milksop and why did I have to pick up all the slack in the family. Even Fleur is useless when it comes to serious attacks to the family. It's all fallen to me to make sure the family won't fall."

_Luna thinks she's an embarrassment,_ Draco realized suddenly. _She got rid of Trent and sent Ginny away because she's ashamed of having to do it._

Something in Ginny seemed to burn at Luna's comment. "You don't have the right to question my family, Luna."

Whatever remnant of the dreamy, preoccupied and loony girl she had been in Hogwarts dissolved in an instant. Ginny would have stepped back if not for Draco behind her. "I don't? Marrying Charlie and carrying his child doesn't give me the right? How thick are you?" Luna snapped. Her eyes were glittering chips of ice and seas of rage shimmered beneath them. _"Your_ family is _my_ family, Ginny. Don't you dare forget that."

"What did you do?" Ginny asked, cold and numb in the face of Luna's growing rage. "What happened to Trent?"

"Tell her," Draco insisted. He could see Pansy out of the corner of his eye. Adrian couldn't be too far away. "You're too defensive. What did you do?"

Luna's jaw set. "You don't know what it took to try and take care of you. You don't know what it was like to see you, bruises barely covered up, a shadow of yourself. You have _no idea,_ how hard it was to wait as long as I did."

Ginny couldn't move. Even the trembling had stopped.

"We had to watch you retreat into this shell, become this girl we _knew_ wasn't you. Do you have any idea what that was like? It _killed_ your mother. She knew how bad things had gotten, and none of us could do anything about it." Luna gave Ginny a glare. "You left me with no choice."

"What happened to Trent?" Ginny asked, voice soft.

"He was going to cast a demon circle," Luna replied contemptuously. "Did you really think that would go unnoticed? Did you really think I would allow that?"

"He didn't cast it. He _couldn't_ cast it."

"I made sure of it," Luna replied contemptuously. "He couldn't cast it because of _me."_

"Why is he missing?" Ginny asked.

"He's dead," Draco said softly once it was apparent that Luna wasn't about to answer.

Ginny stared at Luna, at a loss for words.

"He was going to kill you," Luna said after a long moment. "I wasn't about to let that happen."

"You killed him," she said softly.

"Of course I did," Luna snapped. "Haven't you been listening?"

"You didn't have to," Ginny said, voice hardening.

"He was going to kill you," Luna repeated, as if Ginny was a simple child. "He was going to call up a demon and _kill_ you. So I simply had to get to him first. I couldn't possibly let you take the blame, so I had to bring you here."

"Does Charlie or Bill know?"

"Of course not. And they never will."

"You took my family from me," Ginny whispered.

Luna snorted inelegantly. "You threw them away for someone that wasn't even worth it."

"Somehow, I don't think it matters," Draco murmured. His voice was pitched just low enough so only Ginny could hear him. "You have family here, now, too."

"But..."

"It's a very Slytherin plan," Draco told Luna.

"What are you talking about?"

"You killed the bastard and let Ginny take the blame for it with her absence. Quite brilliant, really, but very Slytherin."

Luna at least had the grace to flush.

"Is that why I can't ever go back to London? They all think I killed him?" Ginny whispered, shocked. "You let them think I did that awful thing?"

"You're safe now, and that's really all that matters," Luna replied, voice harsh. "I don't suppose you'd ever understand something like that. You've always been too self centered. You can't appreciate the good I've done for you." She took out her wand, and was stunned when Draco and Pansy both immediately pointed their wands at her.

Ginny looked lost. She glance from Draco to Pansy, who was standing beside Adrian. Draco kept one hand on her back, hoping that she wouldn't start to cry.

"I see how it is, then," Luna said, voice frosting over. "I won't be visiting again, Ginny. I hope you like the life you've chosen."

Ginny watched helplessly as Luna Apparated away. Draco and Pansy slowly lowered their wands, then tucked them away. Draco pulled her into his embrace, and she dissolved into desperate tears. He stroked her hair as Pansy and Adrian approached. "I'm sorry," Draco whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry."

"You knew he was dead," she cried, striking his back. "You knew I was afraid of him and you knew he was dead."

"It wasn't my place to tell you," Draco said simply. "I only found out by accident myself. Luna should have told you to start with."

"I can't go back," Ginny sobbed, clutching at his shoulders desperately. "Oh, Merlin, I can't ever see them again."

"We're not much," Draco began softly. "But we can be your family, too. Mrs. Rhys has enough love for the entire world if they let her."

Adrian touched Ginny's arm. "Whatever you need, we can figure it out together." He smiled at her wanly. "It's almost like a town motto. We adopt everyone into our family."

She looked up, eyes red and shining with tears. "It's not the same."

"No, it's not," he agreed.

"The pain goes away after a while," Pansy added helpfully. "It's there, it'll always be there, but it doesn't _hurt_ the same. And it helps if you have someone with you that understands. We're here if you need us."

"Uh oh. That's Mum over there," Adrian murmured. "We'd best be off. She can be overwhelming when you're upset."

Draco nodded. "Come on, then. We'll go get some ice cream, and we'll give you time to deal with it. You can deal with Mrs. Rhys later."

Ginny sniffled and nodded. "Okay."

"We'll take care of you," Draco murmured, smoothing her hair down. "You'll be all right."

"You promise?" She sounded like a small child.

"Well... Yes, I promise. When I'm being stupid, Adrian usually sets me straight. And Pansy wouldn't think twice about saying so."

"You're being stupid right now, you know," Pansy pointed out cheerfully.

Ginny smiled as she wiped at her eyes. "Can I have chocolate?"

Adrian grinned at her. "Claire's Cookery makes ice cream by hand, still. We passed by their booth a while back. We'll get you something monstrous."

"I couldn't finish that," she protested weakly.

"We'll share," Draco offered. He smiled at her and looped an arm around her waist. "Does that sound good?"

It was more than just ice cream, and they both knew it.

Ginny's smile was shy and tentative. "That does sound good."

Arm in arm, they went off in search of the booth behind Adrian and Pansy. It was a new year, full of possibilities. For the first time, they were looking forward to it.

 

The End.


End file.
